Beauty and the Beast
by RhododendronsAndLilies
Summary: The classic fairy tale in the True Blood universe; pre-revelation, mostly canon with a few twists. E/S HEA. Sequel to come.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, I'm just playing with Charlaine Harris'/ Alan Ball's characters.

* * *

"G'night, Sam!" I called over my shoulder, hearing a muffled "Night, Sook!" in return before I closed the door of the bar behind me. It had been a long shift of waiting tables; Fridays were always busy, but _boy_ did my feet hurt after pulling a double. My job as a barmaid at the local watering hole, Merlotte's, wasn't fancy, but it got the bills paid.

I slid into my beat-up old car, sending up my cursory prayer that the engine would start—it did, and with barely any protest—before latching my seat belt and pulling out of the back of the lot where all the employees parked. The night was warm and humid, the pleasant scent of earth and summer foliage drifting through the open window.

I loved nature; the smell of rich loam, the vibrant colors of the flowers bursting into bloom, the way the birds called to each other sweetly between the trees…sometimes I could swear I could even feel the energy, the thrum of life, pulsing through the veins of leaves.

Plus, plants don't have thoughts. They're nice and quiet.

Life as a telepath isn't so bad, once you learn how to build a mental shield around your brain. As a child, before I figured out how to protect myself, day-to-day life could be unbearable. My mother's thoughts were always a little jealous—she loved Daddy so much that she just wanted all of his affection for herself. My older brother, Jason, was resentful of having a freak for a younger sister. He was teased for it, until he realized that if _he_ helped them tease _me_ , he would be spared, and he'd also have a handy outlet for all his anger. It was a win-win for him, really. He even gave me the nickname that followed me around to this day: Crazy Sookie.

Daddy and Gran's thoughts were always filled with love and concern. I got unconditional love from them, the only people who accepted me as I was, warts and all. They worried about how I was fitting in at school (I wasn't), how I felt about my little 'gift' (I hated it), and from Gran I always caught flashes of intense guilt, sometimes accompanied by the briefest image of what looked like my dad surrounded by a beautiful light; but it was faded, like an old photograph yellowed by time.

Eventually, with time and practice, I figured out how to stop the constant barrage of thoughts. I couldn't block everyone out forever, but I could shield myself temporarily. There were a lot of different factors that determined how long my walls could stay up—stress, exhaustion, mental capacity, and touch, to name a few—but I got by alright at work, and managed to graduate high school even if it was by the skin of my teeth. College, of course, was never an option, between the telepathy and being dirt poor.

And so I had settled into what I assumed would be my life. I was an uneducated waitress in a small town, lonely, unable to have a relationship thanks to my little curse, living with my Gran. The last part wasn't so bad; she was the light of my life, the only person left who didn't think I was nuts and loved me unconditionally. But crazy or not, I was still a woman, and I yearned for all the emotional claptrap I read in the romance novels I devoured like candy.

I was considering a run to the library the next day as I turned onto my pitted driveway, wincing at every big bump. I pulled around the back of the house where I usually parked, and after cutting the engine, sat back in my seat to relax for a minute. Gran was most likely asleep at this late hour, and we lived far enough away from other people that I couldn't _hear_ anyone, so I slowly let my shields fall away with a deep with. Disassembling my mental barrier feels quite a bit like taking your bra off at the end of the day, or kicking off high heels after a night of dancing (or so I'd overheard from Dawn Green, a fellow waitress).

Feeling mentally relaxed, I climbed from my car and stretched, my hands reaching towards the inky sky. It was a new moon, and we didn't have street lights this far out, so only the dim glow of the kitchen light Gran left on for me illuminated the night. It was almost balmy out, with just a slight breeze carrying the scent of the woods surrounding our property and the sound of the grasshoppers chirping to each other. I'd just taken a few steps towards the back porch when I heard the sound of shuffling footsteps.

I whirled around and saw a figure approaching. I backed towards the house quickly, scared out of my wits and unable to see who it was. I sent a little tendril out, probing the person's brain and got nothing but static.

"Who the hell are you?" I yelled in a bit of a panic; no answer, just more shuffling forward. "I'm armed!" No, I wasn't. But they didn't know that. "Stop moving and tell me who you are!" I'd reached the few steps leading to the back porch at this point, and was carefully ascending them backwards, never taking my eyes off the figure approaching me.

"Don't make me call the police!" I threatened, my shaky hands reaching behind me, searching desperately for the knob to the back door. I'd just curled my trembling fingers around it when I saw the face of the man approaching—it was my brother, Jason. My panic level dropped, but the trembling in my limbs increased due to relief.

"Jason, what the hell is wrong with you?!" I whisper-yelled at him. He said nothing, just kept walking forward in a daze. Frowning at his odd behavior, I mentally poked at his brain a little harder and got more of nothing. This had never happened before; all minds are just a little different, but this complete nothing-ness was new to me.

"Jase? You okay?"

He came to a stop just inside the glow of the light, and I gasped at his face. He had some bruises blooming on his cheeks and his bottom lip was split. He looked like he'd been on the losing end of a fight, which wouldn't be surprising. He didn't know how to keep his mouth shut and he'd always thought he was the biggest dog in the yard.

"Sookie. I gotta show you somethin'." His voice was flat, just like his eyes were. I could feel my anxiety levels rising again, my heartbeat pulsing in my ears. This was definitely not normal. "Come with me, Sookie."

"Jason, you're freaking me out. What's wrong with you?" I stepped toward him, something in me afraid to get too close. But, I reasoned, this was my brother. He was a jackass, but he looked like he needed help.

"It's out here a-ways. Not too far, Sookie. I gotta show you somethin'." Still nothing in his brain. I worried on my lip, shifting my weight from foot to foot. I didn't want to go out there; he was scaring me, it was dark, and it could surely wait til morning. I told him as much.

"No, it's gotta be now. Come on, Sook. Come with me. I gotta show you somethin'." His voice had a slight hint of urgency to it now, a little panic in his eyes. After a few more moments of hesitation, I stepped down from the porch. Jason turned instantly, in an indescribably creepy way, and started towards the woods again. I followed reluctantly.

"Where are we going?" I asked, trailing behind him. I was still leery, a little jittery. This didn't feel right.

When my brother didn't answer, I decided to listen to my gut feeling. "Alright, you can just show me tomorrow. I'm going inside and going to bed." I turned on my heel and started walking quickly back towards the porch again, surprised to see we'd gotten halfway to the woods from the porch.

I was still listening for _anything_ to come from Jason's mind, my legs hurrying to get me to the house, when a weird…blankness?...showed up on my mental radar. It wasn't the 'nothing' coming from Jason, but another kind of void entirely, like a black hole had opened and was hurtling in my direction. I looked in the vicinity I felt it in, frowning, feeling it coming up quickly behind where Jason was now staring at me with that creepy blank stare.

I turned and moved faster towards the porch steps, officially panicking, when the blank spot seemed to rush towards me all at once. I barely got out a yelp before something had me tackled to the ground, a cold, firm hand pressed to my mouth and a very heavy _thing_ pinning me to the ground. My hands grabbed at the hand muffling my yells of terror, trying to claw it away while my legs kicked and I bucked underneath whatever it was that was holding me down.

"Stay still!" A deep voice snarled in my ear—a man, then. I couldn't get any thoughts from his touch, just more enveloping blankness. Under other circumstances, I would probably have loved that feeling. Right now, it was petrifying. "If you keep struggling, I will hurt your brother further. Do you understand?" The man's voice was honey poured on sandpaper, slightly accented with something foreign, and incredibly sinister.

I stopped my flailing, my fingers still clutching at his, and I nodded, trying to calm my breathing down. Tears had started leaking from my eyes at some point, and my heart felt like it was going to burst right in my chest.

"I am going to remove my hand and turn you over. If you make any noise or try to run, you will regret it. Do you understand this?" I nodded again. "Good." The hand fell away and I was rolled roughly onto my back. The earth was damp, and I could feel moist earth clinging to my shirt as I was shifted.

If I hadn't already been breathless with terror, the face of my tackler would have stolen the air from my lungs. He was truly beautiful. His features looked like a master sculptor had carved them painstakingly from smooth marble, his eyes a striking sapphire blue. His mouth was just full enough to be called lush without being feminine, and his blonde hair was brushed back from his high forehead, the ends barely tickling the collar of his leather jacket.

Separately, his features were enthralling. But looking at his face as a whole, in this moment, it was fucking terrifying. His face was one of impassive smugness, the kind of expression you find on someone who knows exactly who they are in the world and feels superior because of it. He leaned in to my neck, his hands gripping my shoulders firmly, his knees planted on either side of my body. His eyelids drifted down as he took a deep, slow inhale.

 _He was smelling me!_

Before I could muster up enough righteous indignation and tell him off, his lips pulled back in a feral smile, and protruding from his mouth where two normal, blunt teeth should have been were fangs. Two long, sharp, pointy, slightly-curved fucking fangs.

"Oh my God," My voice was barely above a whisper, "Oh my God. Oh my God."


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: I'm just borrowing CH/AB's characters. Enjoy.

EDIT: I didn't realize the wrong version of the chapter was uploaded; the old one had continuity errors and wasn't finished, but this one is. Sorry about the confusion.

* * *

Previously:

 _Before I could muster up enough righteous indignation and tell him off, his lips pulled back in a feral smile, and protruding from his mouth where two normal, blunt teeth should have been were fangs. Two long, sharp, pointy, slightly-curved fucking fangs._

 _"Oh my God," My voice was barely above a whisper, "Oh my God. Oh my God."_

* * *

"Now, now, Miss Stackhouse," He said with a smirk, those fangs still out—how did he not cut his lips with those things?-as his grip tightened ever-so-slightly, "You said you'd be quiet. Don't make me shut you up." I fought down a whimper, not wanting to push him further. His hands were using enough force to be just this side of painful, and I had no desire to test how strong he really was.

"You smell divine. Even better than your brother. I bet you taste more delicious than the honey I ate as a human." He dragged a single finger down my throat, from my ear to the hollow of my collarbone, where he let it sit. "Jason," My attacker called over his shoulder, eyes still locked on mine, "Come here."

I heard Jason before I saw him, still in a daze, not a single thought bouncing around in his brain. The man…demon, thing, beast, whatever-he-was…switched his gaze from me to my brother.

"You will go home. You will not remember meeting me, the time you spent with me, or anything from this night. You will _never_ drink vampire blood again"—Vampire?!-"nor will you remember anything about vampires being real. You didn't see your sister this night, and you don't know where she is. You received your injuries in a bar fight. Go."

As soon as he stopped speaking, the weirdest thing happened to Jason's brain. It didn't go back to normal, per se, there was still that weird static, but images and thoughts typical of my brother started to form. A man's face began taking shape in his brain, and the only way to describe him was "the world's most generic man", the kind of face that could walk by you a million times on the street and it would never register.

I didn't know what to make of all this but when Jason turned and started walking back towards our woods, my struggles began anew. I was afraid to be alone with this monster. The whimper I choked down before came out unbidden as his words started sinking in. Why wouldn't Jason know where I was? What the hell had he just done to my brother? What did he mean, 'Vampires being real'? That simply wasn't possible.

I tried to push his hand off of me, and he responded by pushing me harder into the ground as his eyes snapped back to my face.

"I warned you." His eyes narrowed just so, and I felt a strange pressure in my head. It felt almost as if someone were trying to shove a too-small hat over my skull, only magnified. "You will be still. You will be silent."

I tried to calm down, I really did, but I just couldn't keep from choking out, "Please…"

I didn't even know what I was begging for. This night to be a bad dream? Mercy? Both?

I felt the pressure on my brain increase; a small ache began at my temples, similar to the start of a headache. I gritted my teeth, a small grunt coming unbidden from my mouth.

"Whatever you're doing, stop it!" I pushed harder at his hands, not expecting anything to happen. To my surprise, however, the ache in my head left as quickly as it came. He sat back, still straddling me, and folded his arms across his chest. His eyes were narrowed contemplatively.

"You can resist glamour."

"I don't even know what that is! Get off of me!"

He didn't even seem to register what I'd said. "No matter. You will see things my way." He unfolded himself from on top of me, but before I could bolt and run, he'd grabbed me up bridal-style.

"Put me down! I don't know who the hell you think you are, but this is kidnapping, buster! That's illegal!" I was yelling at this point, thinking maybe Gran would wake up and call the police. Better yet, she could grab her shotgun and blow this loon full of holes. I'd been too afraid earlier, but this freak had manhandled me, _sniffed_ me like some mangy mutt, done some Jedi mind-trick bullshit with Jason, and now he was about to cart me off to God-knows-where in the middle of the night.

He gave me a patronizing smile, those fangs still run down, before a great gust of wind whooshed by us. I squinted against the gale and opened my mouth to tell at him again when I realized the wind hadn't picked up at all. We were _flying,_ and I could already see the farmhouse getting smaller, my little yellow car sitting quietly beside it. You'd never know an abduction had just taken place; not even a Sookie-shaped impression was left in the ground.

My breath caught for what felt like the millionth time that night before I threw my arms around the neck of my kidnapper, trying to force air into my lungs. Between a short fall to certain death and this crazy man, Vampire, whatever the fuck he was, I figured the latter wasn't going to kill me. Not yet, anyway.

I don't know how long we were in the air; I know my exposed arms and legs were freezing and my face was pressed against his leather jacket as I clung to him for dear life. I wasn't relaxed with him, I was still terrified, but there was some comfort in the emptiness of where his thoughts should have been. I'd be lying if I said I didn't marvel at that for a bit, before gently probing around the gaping void on my mental radar that was him.

I couldn't get anything, not even the most errant of thoughts. It was strange.

Eventually I felt the jarring of his feet hitting solid ground, but my muscles were too tense for me to move, much less stage a daring escape. I wondered if that had been on purpose. I wiggled my fingers and toes to try and loosen them up a bit.

I felt him start moving, his gait smooth; I pulled my face from his jacket to look around, my neck stiff from being tense so long. He'd landed outside of what looked like a nondescript warehouse, with windows set high up and one single door that I could see from my vantage point. He strode up to the door and kicked it with one booted foot, the sound echoing faintly inside the building.

A few moments later I heard the sounds of locks unlatching and a chain moving before the door swung open. I caught a glimpse of another man half-hidden by the door, but before I could get my voice to work, we were striding by him and down a hallway.

I flexed the muscles in my limbs, trying to get some movement back into them. I stiffly unwound my arms from my captor's neck, but before I could try to shimmy out of his arms, they tightened around me.

"Ah-ah-ah, Miss Stackhouse. Be a good girl and stay still for me."

My anger flared again at his condescension. "Excuse me, but have you thought that maybe if you'd explain what in the Hell you're doing kidnapping me, I might be cooperative? You—"

My tirade was interrupted by his rich, full laugh. He didn't even break his stride. Jerk.

"All in due time, sweetheart."

"I'm not your sweetheart, you jackass!" His only response was another laugh, and to sling me over his shoulder. "Hey!"

I tried to kick my feet at his chest—not that I thought it would do anything anymore, he was obviously inhumanly strong; it just made me feel better—but he banded an arm around my calves, rendering them immobile. I heard the sound of a door opening and felt us start to descend down a flight of stairs. I huffed, more pissed and annoyed than scared at this point. I didn't delude myself by thinking I wasn't in any danger, but his overall demeanor felt less threatening than it had at the start of this whole crazy mess.

He reached the bottom of the flight of stairs and before I knew it I was being set down rather roughly in a metal folding chair. He continued to stare at me and I, not one to be outdone, just glared right back at him.

"I imagine you're quite curious as to your predicament, Miss Stackhouse."

"Why, whatever gave you that idea?" My words dripped with sarcasm as I crossed my arms and sat back in my chair gingerly. My muscles were starting to come alive again, despite the cool temperature of the warehouse.

"Your brother tells me you have a very rare gift." My heart stuttered. Jason barely acknowledged me half the time, much less my telepathy. "You can read minds, yes?" I decided not to answer him; firstly, it was none of his business, and secondly, I didn't know what opening that particular can of worms would do.

I should have guessed, however, that he wasn't going to abide by that. I didn't even see him move; one moment he was staring down at me with that damn smirk on his objectively handsome face, the next he was caging me in with his arms, his fanged snarl inches away from me.

"I asked you a question. When I ask questions, I get answers, one way or another." I shivered a little, from more than just the cold. "Now, let's try this again. Can you hear thoughts?" Hesitantly, I nodded. "Very good. But, surely, you can't hear mine?"

"No. Not a peep, just blankness." I don't know what he would have done if I'd been hearing anything going through his brain, but something told me I wouldn't enjoy it. I doubted he daydreamed of unicorns and rainbows.

"As I thought. But humans you can hear quite clearly?"

Ignoring the last question, I asked, "What made you think I can't hear you?"

His fangs retracted back into wherever they'd come from as he smirked at me. "If you had been privy to my thoughts on the way here, Miss Stackhouse, you'd have blushed from the top of your sweet little head down to your toes. But you didn't answer my question."

"Yes. I can hear everyone around me." At this, he straightened up and smoothed imaginary wrinkles from the front of his jacket.

"Wonderful. Now, as to your being here, your brother was kind enough to let me know of your little gift…after some persuading. He's been a very, very bad boy." He started pacing around the chair, graceful and deadly as a lion. I kept my arms crossed and followed his movements as best I could. "This little area of Louisiana is mine. I police my kind, keep them safe, minimize the threat to humans, and keep our existence a secret."

"You keep saying you're not human. You expect me to believe you're some kind of vampire? That kind of shit doesn't exist."

He'd circled back around to face me at this point; he lifted an eyebrow smoothly as he regarded me. "You are a telepath. Why would the existence of vampires be beyond the pale? Or, for that matter, _other_ things?" I stayed quiet, mentally chewing on that bit of information.

In hindsight, it wasn't so strange to think about it, especially after having the evidence quite literally shoved in my face. I had always assumed my telepathy was some fluke. In my darker moments, just to cheer myself up, I'd sometimes fantasized that it was human evolution at work and I was just the start of a new race, like the X-Men or something.

"I suppose the notion has some merit." He may have had a point, but I was still here against my will, so giving him any quarter in this little sparring session didn't seem like such a hot idea.

"Back to my original point. It is generally my job to keep the vampires of my area from eating too many humans—"I made a weird choking noise, a little startled by how blasé he was about admitting he _ate humans_ , as if it were no big deal—"but, every so often, we get someone like your brother. Now, I don't know how he got into the habit of drinking vampire blood, but I will find out. The draining of vampires is very much frowned upon, and the blood is sacred. He committed a grave offense against my kind, and we are not known for our mercy."

His eyes had grown cold, all traces of his irritating smirk wiped clean. All that was before me now was a hunter, a cold and calculated killer. I kept my tone even, my survival instincts warning me to tread lightly when he looked as deadly as he did now. He may have killed humans, but I still held onto the hope I'd make it out of here alive.

"And what does drinking your blood do?" I asked after swallowing the lump in my throat.

He stalked forward, his blue orbs frosty and flat. "All kinds of things, sweetheart. It can increase your sex drive, it can make you faster, stronger, more appealing. The blood can heal your wounds, bind you to the vampire you drink it from, or act as a potent drug that gives you a high.

"Very few humans are aware of our existence. The ones that do are either in our employ or our thrall; once we no longer have need of their services, our presence is glamoured from them. Sometimes, vampire blood makes it's way into hands of drug dealers. I've seen it laced into all manner of illicit substances. The humans, of course, don't know any better—they simply think they've been sold incredibly potent product.

"But, every now and again, someone like your brother pops up. They are made aware of what they're ingesting, and they get addicted. They seek it out. They do whatever it takes to keep getting that high.

"The method of these humans gaining knowledge of our community always varies, of course; how your brother came to be pulled into our inner circle will come to light soon enough. I am very good at finding out what I want to know.

"Your brother is a drug addict. He is a vampire drainer, scum of the Earth. One of the vampires I am responsible for has met his final death because of your fucking brother."

All throughout his monologue, I'd sat silently, trying to digest all the crazy shit he was spouting; but, as terrible of a brother Jason was, the fact remained he _was_ my brother, and I had very little family left. I had to defend what remained. "Hey, my brother isn't a junkie! Jason may not be a model citizen—"

I was interrupted by his fangs snapping back down as he moved at an inhuman speed mere inches from my face. "Your brother is a killer. He is an insipid moron who cares only for himself, and can't see beyond his own wants and desires. Tell me, Miss Stackhouse, why do you think you're here?"

"I'm here because you kidnapped me!"

A growl erupted from his chest as his lips pulled back into a snarl. "You are here because, instead of accepting the punishment for his actions, he outed you for what you can do and traded your freedom for his. He offered you up on a silver fucking platter to save his own worthless skin. You are here because your brother decided his life was worth more than yours.

"So, sweetheart, tell me more about how your brother is a saint from the cage he decided to put you in." At this, he threw me back over his shoulder and in a blur of movement had dumped me onto cold concrete. I heard the clang of a metal door shutting; I pushed my hair from my face as I sat up, looking around the metal cell I was in. He was standing by the closed door, his cold blue eyes boring into my own frightened ones.

"I'll let you think about your predicament for a while, Miss Stackhouse. Enjoy your night." I blinked, and he was gone.

* * *

Y'all's response made my heart sing. Thank you.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot; everything else is CH/AB's.

Thank you all, so much, for your response. Y'all make a girl's heart swell.

* * *

Last time:

 _A growl erupted from his chest as his lips pulled back into a snarl. "You are here because, instead of accepting the punishment for his actions, he outed you for what you can do and traded your freedom for his. He offered you up on a silver fucking platter to save his own worthless skin. You are here because your brother decided his life was worth more than yours._

 _"So, sweetheart, tell me more about how your brother is a saint from the cage he decided to put you in." At this, he threw me back over his shoulder and in a blur of movement had dumped me onto cold concrete. I heard the clang of a metal door shutting; I pushed my hair from my face as I sat up, looking around the metal cell I was in. He was standing by the closed door, his cold blue eyes boring into my own frightened ones._

 _"I'll let you think about your predicament for a while, Miss Stackhouse. Enjoy your night." I blinked, and he was gone._

* * *

The cell was cold, made up of metal bars; I could feel the chill of the concrete floor seeping through my work shorts. Pushed against the wall was a thin mattress with a scratchy blanket thrown on top of it. I wrinkled my nose at the metal toilet, but then decided to just be thankful there was a toilet at all. There were other cells like mine, all of them empty.

That crazy fuck had an underground jail.

I inspected the cell door and shook it half-heartedly, not expecting anything to happen. I stretched my mind out, feeling as far as I could to see if anyone was nearby. I felt two blank spots, one of which I was sure was the crazy vampire-man (I fought down a little bit of hysteria at using the term 'vampire' seriously), assuming the other empty space near him was someone like him.

I encountered some other brains, too, but they were harder than normal people to get a hold on. I could feel boredom rolling off of a few of them; I caught glimpses from another thinking about their grocery list, but nothing else, nothing concrete. Just tangle-y, snarly minds. Come to think of it, they felt a little bit like Sam's brain did most of the time.

I was struck by what my captor had said earlier, about there being _other things_ out there. I bit my lip, briefly entertaining the idea that the weird brains could be something other than human. The thought instantly got pushed to the back of my mind; I'd had a few too many revelations tonight, and I wasn't really feeling up to having my world flipped again.

On a whim, I shook the door a little harder, keeping my mental shields down.

"HEY! CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?"

I _heard_ some of them hear me, and I also heard them dismiss it just as quickly. My stomach gave a lurch.

"I'D LIKE TO GO HOME, PLEASE!" I yelled as loud as I could, kicking the cell door. I got more indifference, as well as some annoyance. "HEY, ASSHOLES, I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME! LET ME OUT!"

'… _Wish she'd just shut up…'_

I made a very childish noise of frustration and stomped my foot. I figured I was allowed to be immature in this particular instance. It's not everyday you're locked up in a crazy man's private prison, right? I was cold, hungry, and tired.

The little pallet on the floor didn't look too inviting, but I was ready to give up on today. I snatched the blanket off of it and shook it out a little bit, wondering idly if Jason had been in this particular cell. I was desperate for any type of familiarity, even if it was my alleged-junkie/betrayer of a brother. I was still afraid to think too much on that part.

I'd deal with those thoughts tomorrow.

I curled up on the mattress under the wool blanket, keeping my shoes on. Sleeping in sneakers is a very uncomfortable feeling, but if an opportunity to make a run for it arose, I wanted to be prepared. I sighed and hugged my middle, allowing a few tears to fall before I started to drift off to sleep, my tired mind latching onto the blank voids above me and sinking into their silence.

* * *

My dreams were haunting that night, filled with fangs and blood and flickers of Jason's blank face lurking at the edge of my periphery. When I finally woke up for good, disoriented by the lack of a clock and the unfamiliar location, I was covered by a light sheen of sweat, my one blanket kicked down to my sneaker-clad feet. I stretched my body out, letting the kinks and stiffness melt away before I stood up.

There were a few of the snarly minds still up there, but I couldn't tell if they were the same ones as last night. They felt like vines snagging on my own brain, irritating but not painful. I passed by them and kept searching, probing for the blank spot of the vampire and coming up empty-handed—or empty-minded, as it were.

I stared at the ceiling, my hands clasped at the back of my head, musing on all the new things I'd learned in the past…however many hours.

Jason had always been a bit of a wayward kid. He was never really a rule-abider, but I'd never known him to be into drugs, and although he had a cruel streak a mile wide, I couldn't reconcile the brother I knew to be a murderer.

But, I reasoned, he _had_ been coming around Gran's house less. I frowned a little, considering. Usually when Jason was coming around less, it meant he had found himself a new lady. They never lasted for longer than a few weeks at a time; he would revisit a romance every so often, but Jason never lacked for a new admirer. He was an objectively handsome man, and I knew from other women's thoughts that his asshole persona could be a turn-on. Women loved to try and fix a man.

Sometimes the company he'd keep was less than desirable—Dawn Green, another of Sam's waitresses, was what Maxine Fortenberry thought of as a 'mattress ass', or to put it in nicer terms, a woman of loose morals. I wasn't judging her many sexcapades, but her personality left a lot to be desired, not to mention the nasty thoughts about me she liked to nurture.

I remembered Jason bringing a girl named Crystal to Merlotte's not too long ago, but I'd only ever seen her the once, and had never met her before. She seemed alright, even if she did come from Hot Shot, a small trailer park community not far from our town of Bon Temps. I didn't have the time or energy to read her that night, and I'd never had another opportunity.

There was also Maudette Pickens, who'd been known to walk on the wrong side of the tracks, so to speak. Maudette was an on-again, off-again pill popper, but I only knew this from flashes of thought when I stopped at the gas station she cashiered at. She was Jason's go-to when his other female friends were otherwise occupied. Bless her heart.

There were various other women who could've gotten him mixed up in whatever vampire-blood-bullshit that had ultimately landed me in this predicament, but as it stood, I didn't have any clear leads, and I obviously couldn't investigate from this damn cell.

But, could he really be a killer? I couldn't imagine him drinking blood. It had taken him a while to get over a gay man—Lafayette, the cook at Merlotte's—making his burger, on account of him being afraid of diseases (I'd laid into Jason when I heard that in his head; I don't usually begrudge people their thoughts, but Lala was a good friend of mine).

Jason was, admittedly, selfish enough to do whatever he could to get out of trouble, and to hell with who he hurt in the process. But surely I couldn't be kept here forever—someone would find me. Someone would come looking, right?

And oh, God, Gran. While she wasn't a frail old woman, she couldn't handle everything in that old house by herself. I helped with the bills, did a fair amount of housework, and generally tried to take care of her, the way she had done for Jason and I after our parents had died in a flash-flood almost two decades ago.

I sat back down on the cot, my forehead resting against my knees. Hopefully Jason would be there for Gran, until I found a way out of here. He took care of mowing her lawn in the summers, but beyond that he mostly only stopped by for gossip and free food. Maybe whatever mind-voodoo the vampire had worked on him last night would make him start coming around Gran more often.

Just until I was free, which would hopefully not be too far away. Surely I could finagle my way out.

The vampire had said Jason had traded his freedom for my own, and told him of my telepathy in the process. I suppose I could see the allure of it; you'd know for sure no one was ever lying to you, if you knew all their thoughts, and he had said something about their 'thralls' sometimes letting the secret of their existence out. Being a freak of nature myself, I could understand the need to present yourself as normal as possible.

I'd always been half-afraid of being kept in a cell similar to this and having test run on me by some government agency, and I'm sure that type of existence didn't appeal to my kidnapper. Maybe he just wanted me to make sure they were all trust-worthy and let me go? I doubted it. I didn't think he'd let me go so easily. He could have just knocked on my door and asked for my help, if that were the case.

All signs pointed to him not being happy to let me go back home. But, if he'd let Jason go in exchange for me and my little curse, I could probably use that to my advantage. He could make me read the thoughts of these 'thralls', but he couldn't make me tell the truth about it. If I promised not to lie about what I heard in these peoples' heads, and offered future services whenever he wanted if he'd release me, maybe the vampire would go for it.

I admit that strategy relied heavily on 'if' and 'maybe', but it was all I had, and any reasonable person would see the logic in it. Now all I had to do was wait until he showed up again. I assumed that the myth of him sleeping—being dead?—during the day was real, or else I'm sure he'd have been here scaring the life out of me some more.

My stomach rumbled; I hadn't eaten since dinner time last night, and I was sure it had to be mid-morning by now, if not later. I sighed and rubbed my belly, walking back to my cot to flop down on it. My throat was dry, too, or else I'd have been yelling at the people milling about upstairs. It probably wouldn't do any good, aside from making me feel less useless and trapped.

I curled back up under the blanket and tried to relax, determined not to let my spirits sink too low.

Some time later, I heard the door creak open and heavy footsteps clambering steadily down the stairs. I instantly tried to listen in to the person's thoughts, but came up with nothing more than a tangled mess. I stood up, the blanket wrapped around my shoulders, and came to stand at the door of the cell.

A burly man, short but stocky, approached my prison holding a grease-stained white bag and a big bottle of water. "Got some food here for ya, little lady. Burger and fries from the diner down the street, hope it's alright."

I was surprised by how…not mean he was. Not friendly, per se, but polite. He was certainly an improvement from the Vampire.

"More than fine, thank you. I've been starved." I gave him a sweet smile, hoping I could win him over. You catch more flies with honey, they say, and I've had a lifetime's practice being nice to people who think none-too-kindly of me.

"Sorry 'bout that, ma'am." He passed the bag and water bottle through the spaces between the bars.

"Would you mind telling me what time it is?" I asked in my nicest voice, trying to project 'Innocent Southern Belle' in my demeanor.

"It's comin' up on noon, ma'am." I frowned before quickly rearranging my face to be pleasant and inviting. That day was half gone, and while this man being nice, he wasn't giving off the vibe that he'd be a knight in shining armor.

"I just feel so disoriented, what with being without a clock down here, and no windows either! I don't even know where we are." I sighed a little at the end, but I had overplayed my hand trying to play the damsel in distress; his face hardened just enough to let me know he wasn't falling for my shit.

"You have anything else you need, ma'am, just holler. The door'll be open so we'll be able to hear you if you speak up a bit." He turned around and started walking away towards the stairs.

"Hey! Don't leave me down here! What the hell is your problem, leaving a lady locked up for no damn good reason?!"

He turned his body halfway towards me, one foot on the bottom step. "We'll close the door if you keep that up. Then you'll just have to wait 'til Mr. Northman gets back if you need somethin', and there ain't no tellin' when that'll be." He swiveled himself back around and climbed the stairs faster than he'd come down.

I felt good that I'd tried, at least. I could still try to strike a deal with this Mr. Northman, whenever he decided to grace me with his presence once more.

I sat back on my makeshift bed and pulled the food from the bag. The fries were still warm, my burger wrapped in aluminum foil like all good burgers should be. I took the first bite of it and moaned in relief; it tasted divine, and I'd been so hungry. As I ate, I kept thinking.

So, the vampire's name was Mr. Northman. No first name yet, but it was more information than I'd had ten minutes ago. Maybe I could catch him off his guard by knowing more than he thought I would. With that thought in mind, I finished eating and sat back, my mind open, hoping to catch any stray thoughts that could prove to be useful.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. Enjoy! I love your reviews!

* * *

 _Last Chapter:_

 _So, the vampire's name was Mr. Northman. No first name yet, but it was more information than I'd had ten minutes ago. Maybe I could catch him off his guard by knowing more than he thought I would. With that thought in mind, I finished eating and sat back, my mind open, hoping to catch any stray thoughts that could prove_ _to be useful._

* * *

I'd never sat back and just let thoughts filter through my head before; I'd always tried to shield myself as much as possible, once I'd figured out how to do it as a child. With so few people around, and all of them the hazy snarls, it was surprisingly easy to just let everything flit through my head. I didn't glean much, but I got more than I thought I would.

I figured out we were in Shreveport, Louisiana, not far from Bon Temps.

I heard the term 'Sheriff Northman' several times, which threw me for a loop. Was he an actual cop, or was this some sort of vampire thing? I giggled at the mental image of him wearing a ten-gallon hat and be-spurred cowboy boots. Either way, I decided, I wasn't a criminal, so he had no business jailing me. I picked up on some sympathy for my plight, but I couldn't follow that feeling back to the original broadcaster.

It felt like an eternity later that I felt the buzz of activity: I heard the distant sound of a door opening, and a few snarly thoughts showed me Mr. Northman entering with a blonde woman trailing behind him. Her mouth was moving, and he smirked, but there was no sound. It was like a muted movie clip. I mentally steeled myself for whatever may come, resolving to be aloof and uncaring, no matter what happened. I'd be as cool as a cucumber.

I followed the voids—I assumed one was Mr. Northman and the other was the blonde woman—as they moved around the building. They stayed in the same spot for a while, in an office maybe, before they started moving around again. I found myself wishing I had a map, so I could figure out the layout of the building. I could feel my anxiety rising but I fought to keep it down and my heartbeat normal.

 _Cool as a cucumber,_ I told myself.

Soon enough I heard two sets of footsteps descending the stairs. I got to my feet, keeping my breathing as even as possible. Mr. Northman's legs appeared first, clad in black jeans—Jesus, they were long, he must have been over six feet tall—followed by the woman, wearing bright pink pumps and a matching skirt. Who the hell wore heels to a place like this?

I regarded Mr. Northman and his female associate as they came into full view, both of them staring back. His face was a mask of disinterested ennui, hers condescension, a look I was all too familiar with. I instantly disliked her just for that. She was aiding and abetting my imprisonment for no damn good reason, and wearing impractical shoes to boot. Who did she think she was, looking down on me?

"Miss Stackhouse," The _sheriff_ drawled, "This is Pamela, my Child. Pamela, meet Sookie Stackhouse, Jason's sweet sister."

"My pleasure," She said, her lips turning sardonically up at the corner. "How do you like our hospitality?"

I wrinkled my nose at her. "I'll be sure to leave you a five-star review once I get out." She laughed throatily, her arms crossing under her chest.

"Oh, Eric, I do like her. So much spunk." Eric, huh? Sheriff Eric Northman. It did roll of the tongue, not that I'd ever admit that. The man himself was watching our small exchange impassively.

"Miss Stackhouse, I imagine you'd like to freshen up. There is a shower on the premises; Pamela will escort you and provide you with a change of clothing. His eyebrow quirked up as he turned his gaze to Pamela. They spoke in a rapid exchange of some foreign language, and then he retreated back up the stairs, leaving me alone with his 'Child'.

"Well, now, Miss Sookie, let's get you clean. You stink of Shifter and fried human food." She moved towards the door and started pressing buttons; there must have been some sort of keypad on the other side. A metallic 'click' sounded, and she slid the door back. "The shower is upstairs. Don't try and run away, please. I may not be as fast as Eric, but I'm still quicker than you."

She grabbed my arm and started pulling me towards the stairs, me tripping over my feet just a little. What was it with these people and their rude ways? "Hey, you wanna slow down a little? You must have gotten your manners from your dad!" To my surprise, she laughed.

"Oh, you are sweet. Eric isn't my _father_ , he's my Maker." We'd been steadily climbing the stairs at this point. "He made me vampire."

"And how does that happen?"

"All in good time, Miss Stackhouse." Once we were through the door leading to the underground prison, I was able to get my first good look at the warehouse itself. It looked like a warehouse should—impersonal, with plain walls and concrete floors. She steered us down a hallway, her pumps clacking on the floor. A little part of me was jealous she could walk so well in those heels; I'd never had much occasion to wear heels, and I'd never gotten proficient in the art of it.

"I don't have any spare clothes, you know." I groused at her.

"Oh, don't you worry about that. We're very accommodating hosts." She turned and leered at me, just the hint of fangs showing, although hers were smaller than her 'Maker's' were. My heart still thumped extra hard at the sight, and I decided to stay mum until further notice.

She pushed open a door near the end of the hallway, revealing a big communal shower divided by a waist-high partition made of cement blocks. Several basic shower heads stuck out from one tiled wall, and on the opposite side of the room stood a row of lockers and several benches. Pamela released my arm and walked towards one locker.

"We've been nice enough to bring you not only a change of clothes—an upgrade, in my opinion—but we've also provided you with all the toiletries you need. When Eric interrogates you, he won't want to smell that mutt on you."

"I don't have a dog," I informer her crossly as she opened the locker to reveal a black gym bag. She pulled it out and turned to face me, her fangs still out.

"Of course you don't. We're talking about your boss." She waited a moment, then she laughed again, a small clicking noise accompanying her sharp teeth retracting. "Oh, I can't believe this. How sweet. Sam never told you he was a Shifter?"

I narrowed my eyes. "I don't even know what that is."

"We'll just have to remedy that, now, won't we? But first, you need to wash the stink off of you."

"I'm not showering with you in here!"

"Of course not, sweet thing that you are. I'll just be waiting outside. Just so you know, I'll be able to hear everything through the door; not that there's any way to escape from this room. I'll give you twenty minutes." She click-clacked past me and through the door, leaving me to my own devices. I debated using some of my alone time to test her statement, searching for a way out. But, I reasoned, what were the odds of finding a false panel here? Besides, I _did_ feel rather disgusting, and my teeth felt like they were growing moss on them. Hopefully they'd thought to pack me a toothbrush.

I opened the gym bag and inspected it's contents. I found some nice, high-end shampoo and conditioner, a cheap razor, an unscented bar of soap, and—thankfully—a toothbrush with accompanying toothpaste. There was also a towel, a pair of black yoga pants, a plain black shirt, black socks, and black underwear. I wondered who had been sent to get all this for me; Mr. Northman didn't seem the type to run his own errands, much less shop for someone he's kidnapped, and I doubted he had a treasure trove of clothing he kept for moments like this.

I shrugged the thought of, deciding it wasn't important, and stripped my clothes off, keeping my bra to the side to put back on later and folding the rest in a neat pile. Grabbing the towel and toiletries, I made my way to the shower area and turned one of the showerheads on, spending a precious minute to get the perfect temperature.

The shower felt heavenly; the stink of grease and beer washed down the drain, taking some of my worries with it. There's just something about a hot shower that can really cleanse your thoughts and make you feel lighter. I even let myself enjoy the expensive products, imagining how soft my hair would be once it was dry. I made a mental note to ask for a brush and a hair tie.

Once everything was properly washed and my teeth brushed, I turned the spray off and wrapped the towel around me. It was stupidly fluffy, which irritated me; I didn't want to think any kind thoughts towards _them_. I realized that might be part of their strategy, buttering me up with soft towels and silky body wash.

 _Stockholm Syndrome_ , I thought. I pursed my lips and got dressed.

Pamela entered not a minute after I'd tied my sneakers back onto my feet, appraising me for a moment. "Much better. Come on, Miss Stackhouse, you've got a date with my Maker." She waited for me to exit before grabbing my arm again.

We stopped at another door in the same hallway; she rapped on it smartly a few times before opening it and pulling me inside. It looked like an office, just as sterile and clinical as the rest of this building. The walls were plain drywall, a few locked file cabinets, one nondescript chair, a wooden desk and, sitting in a comfortable-looking leather chair with his booted feet propped up, was Mr. Eric Northman, his hands folded behind his head.

"Miss Stackhouse. Please have a seat." I hesitated momentarily before making my way to the chair in front of his desk. It was much more comfortable than the cot I'd slept on. He smoothly set his feet back on the floor, leaning forward in his chair. "I trust you enjoyed your day?"

I frowned at him. "As enjoyable as could be expected, what with being here against my will and all." He grinned, and I decided to ignore how handsome he was when he wasn't trying to intimidate me.

"Well, I do apologize, but your brother has really left me no choice in the matter." He stood from the chair and made his way around the desk, a somber expression replacing his smile. "You see, we need to find out how your Jason got into the habit of drinking the blood of my underlings. That's a _very_ naughty thing to do, not to mention delivering the true death to a vampire I am responsible for. These are offenses that must be paid for."

"Yeah, well, I didn't do shit. I don't drink vampire blood, I didn't kill anybody, and frankly, Mr. Northman, I don't see how it's my problem. I am a law-abiding citizen, I've never even smoked a cigarette—"

I was interrupted by his fangs making their reappearance—I had wondered where they'd been; they were basically old friends at this point—as he growled at me and leaned into my personal space.

"I've already told you Jason gave you up. He broke our laws; the punishment for drinking our blood when it is not freely given is harsh; but he would have survived that, had he not killed to fuel his habit. For that, his life was forfeit, and as soon as he knew how much shit he was in, he was throwing you under the fucking bus to save his own skin.

"That is how it is your problem. In lieu of your brother atoning for his own transgressions, you are here to serve out his sentence." I was full of fear at this point, but it was tinged with more than a little anger.

"So, what, you're going to kill me? If you're going to, just get it over with. I'd rather die than sleep on that damn cot again!" I sat forward, leaning into _his_ personal space. Fuck his scare tactics. To my surprise, he laughed.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm not going to kill you. Not yet. You are going to help me figure out"—he reached out and tapped my temple, the tips of his long fingers cool to the touch—"who his source is, how they caught and killed one of my kind, and how widespread their network is."

"Why not just ask Jason himself? You were able to get him to tell you he has a telepath for a sister, but not where he got some blood from? You may be a big, bad killer, but you don't seem so smart to me if you couldn't get that out of him."

A muscle in his jaw ticked, his eyes tightening slightly as he glared at me. "A miscalculation on my part. The knowledge was glamoured from him, but your gift is more than enough to get to the bottom of this little mystery. I was able to extract some information before he gave you up." His glare turned into a smirk again as he straightened up out of my bubble.

"For instance, I know he's been using our blood for several weeks. I know he obtained it from a bed partner, of which he has had many; this is where you come in. You will help me…interview these women, until we figure out which one introduced him to it. Then we will follow that lead to it's source, and snuff it out."

"What's in it for me?"

He smirked wider, one eyebrow lifting smoothly. "Your life, of course."


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I only own the plot, not the characters.

A/N: I've been floored by the response of this story. I am so happy you guys are enjoying it. For the ones who are worried about Sookie being a doormat, or her falling for Eric even though he's a dick, please just stick with me! Love isn't easy, much less between these two hard-headed characters. I love Sookie being sassy and a little sarcastic, and more than a little clever. Trust in this Sookie. And Eric will need time to see her as more than just a prisoner with telepathy. I promise this won't be a story that just abuses Sookie. Eric has darkness in him, and it will take time to bring the light in him to the front. It _will_ happen.

Reviews make the chapters come faster!

* * *

 _Last time:_

 _A muscle in his jaw ticked, his eyes tightening slightly as he glared at me. "A miscalculation on my part. The knowledge was glamoured from him, but your gift is more than enough to get to the bottom of this little mystery. I was able to extract some information before he gave you up." His glare turned into a smirk again as he straightened up out of my bubble._ _  
_

 _"For instance, I know he's been using our blood for several weeks. I know he obtained it from a bed partner, of which he has had many; this is where you come in. You will help me…interview these women, until we figure out which one introduced him to it. Then we will follow that lead to it's source, and snuff it out."_ _  
_

 _"What's in it for me?"_ _  
_

 _He smirked wider, one eyebrow lifting smoothly. "Your life, of course."  
_

* * *

I arched an eyebrow right back at him. "It seems you've miscalculated again, Mr. Northman. You see, I may not have any education beyond a high school diploma, but I'm not dumb, and I can see the holes in your plan from a mile away. If my life were so disposable, you'd never have let Jason go; I bet you'd just have killed him." His eyes narrowed, and even without being able to hear his thoughts I knew I'd struck gold. "I bet you're just trying to scare me. You need my cooperation, and you know it.

"And what's more," I continued, really hitting my stride, "Whatever mind-control voodoo bullshit you pulled on Jason doesn't work on me. What'd you call It? Glamour? He did exactly as you told him last night, but you couldn't make me do squat. You can't force me to cooperate with you, so if I were you, buster, I'd start playin' nice _real fast_." Finished with my tirade, I crossed my arms, feeling smug.

Mr. Northman's haughty smirk had disappeared, the angry vampire from before back in place. I smiled inwardly.

Before I could gloat too much, faster than my eyes could track, he'd stuck his finger in my mouth. A thick substance touched my tongue, sweet and viscous like brownie batter, and I swallowed on instinct, my reflexes reacting faster than my brain. I gagged a little on the unexpected richness.

"What the hell was that?!"

"My blood." He glowered at me as he wiped his finger on his shirt. I could feel my own blood boil in response. What a freak. "With it in your system, I will be able to feel if you're telling the truth or not—among other things. You _will_ assist me."

I scoffed. "Didn't you beat the daylights out of Jason for the same thing? Are you trying to get me addicted? What if you give me some kind of disease, you ass?"

"The blood was freely given, and when it's fresh, it isn't addictive; what it does is form a blood tie between us. Like I said, I can feel you now—your emotions, if you're telling the truth, where you are. I know it all.

"Now, on to business," the Sheriff continued, before I could interject, "You are right. I'll not kill you; your gift is too rare to waste. I can offer you a better quality of life, however, if you decide you'd like to he a good girl and not make me force your compliance. Perhaps even a real bed." He leaned forward, his hands on his knees as his eyes bored into mine. "Pamela has been able to gather an extensive list of your brother's conquests. What I'd like from you is to point out who is most likely to…walk on the wild side, per se. I'm sure you've had the pleasure of meeting many of these women , maybe even pried into their heads?" That damn eyebrow quirked up again.

"Sure, I've met a few. But that isn't how my telepathy works. Your thoughts don't get stored away or printed in your brain like a book; I can only hear what someone is thinking about at that time, so any one these women could be the one responsible."

"All the same, Miss Stackhouse. I have forever, quite literally."

I regarded him for a few moments, weighing my options. I'd come into the room intending to negotiate for my freedom; my original plan had been been to offer my complete cooperation in exchange for my release. I might've even thrown out the fact that, had he asked like a normal person, I would have helped him anyway. Admittedly, it probably wouldn't have worked, and the point was moot anyway, now that he claimed he'd be able to tell if I was lying to him or not. I made a mental note to test that theory later, when his guard was down.

But it did seem like a step in the right direction that he was willing to upgrade my living conditions for my willing help, and it gave me hope that I'd be able to turn that into eventually being a free woman once again. I knew instinctually it would be an uphill battle, but a worthy one in the end. I'd just have to be patient and constantly on my toes so he couldn't outmaneuver me.

Sounded easy enough. I could do this.

"So, just to clarify, you want me to sort through a bunch of names of people _my brother_ has slept with, tell you which ones I think would be more likely to be junkies, and help you interrogate them so you can find the source of the vampire blood they're distributing. Correct?"

"You are a quick study, sweetheart." His full lips tilted up ever so slightly. "You must have inherited all the brains in your family; Jason leaves much to be desired in that department."

"Don't talk about my brother that way!" I snapped. Sure, he was right about Jason being an idiot, but I was allowed to think so. We were family, after all.

"Still so defensive of him? I've lost count of how many times I've had to repeat to you he betrayed you. You may be clever, but your skull is as thick as your brother's."

"He may not know how to be faithful to his blood, but I do. I doubt you'd know anything about it." I huffed.

His face hardened, his eyes icing over. One of his hands flexed on his kneecap, the tendons of his smooth, pale skin raising up before relaxing again. "Loyalty is everything to me." The Sheriff said quietly, firmly; I could tell I'd touched a nerve with him and felt briefly guilty, before deciding he didn't deserve my guilt.

In the next minute, it seemed he'd shook off his ire as he flashed behind his desk. He pulled a drawer open and extracted a manila folder. He was back in front of me just as quick, holding the folder towards me.

"These are the women Jason has had liaisons with in the last four months. We are prepared to go back further into his history if it proves necessary, but I'm quite confident we won't have to. Once you have the top five contenders set apart, we will formulate our plan. If none of those women are the culprit, we will repeat the process.

"We will begin the interrogations tomorrow night. This evening, after you're done choosing the first five suspects, you will be moved to a safe house—the promised upgrade in your living situation. There, you will have access to creature comforts as well as all necessities. You will also have a guard during the day, to ensure you stay put. Any attempts to escape will get you right back in your cell."

"And once we've found the source, what happens next? I just sit around your house all day for the rest of my life?" I drummed my fingers lightly on the arm of my chair before taking the folder from him and flicking it open. Inside were several loose sheets of paper; candid photos of different women next to a brief description of them and the approximate dates of contact was printed straight down the paper. Jesus, this was some crazy FBI shit. A sudden thought struck me.

"Wait. How are you able to know about all these women and still not know which one is your blood addict? Why not just use your _glamour_ on them?"

"Phone records. It's easy to hack into phone records and trace the number back to a person. It is impossible, however, to retrieve an unrecorded phone conversation from the ether. Unfortunately for us, your brother was smart enough not to use text messaging, which would leave a virtual trail." I stifled a giggle at his sour tone. "As to the glamour, we will be using it, in conjunction with your telepathy. Unless I ask the exact right question, it could be difficult to get the answers I need; but with your gift, you will be able to glean things that I cannot.

"Besides, it is much more time effective for you to narrow down the women. A small town like Bon Temps…I'm certain you've met a fair amount of these women." Flicking through the papers slowly, I had to admit he was right. I _did_ know a good chunk of them; some I didn't even know Jason had been intimate with. I made a face; knowing as much as I did about his sexual history was just… _icky._

"I guess you've got a point," I conceded. Somehow I'd ended up talking civilly with this he-demon; how did that happen? I steered the conversation back to relevant matters. "You didn't answer my question. What happens after we're done with this little mission?"

He leaned back, crossing his arms across his broad chest, the leather of his jacket taut against his muscles. It was another moment before he spoke. "You may be holding on to some hope that you will walk free. I can assure you that will not be the case. I oversee most of northern Louisiana; you may recall me mentioning something to that effect last night. But I do have my own boss, and she was not happy to learn a vampire had been drained. At the end of the investigation, I will have to send her a report of the events, including the punishment for the culprit; or, in this case, the exchange of your freedom for your brother's life.

"Fortunately for you, I'll be keeping your telepathy a little secret, just between me, you, and Pamela." I turned my head to look at Pamela, but she was no longer in the room; she'd left at some point with nary a sound. "Don't worry about my Child; she will be back soon enough. Do you have any questions?"

Only about a million. I furrowed my brow and closed the folder containing the list of Jason's proverbial bedpost notches.

"Is this an open Q&A session?" I asked. His eyebrow rose again; it was kind of irritating how smoothly it went up.

"We might as well get your questions answered and out in the open." He agreed.

"Can I have a pencil and paper? I want to make sure I don't leave anything out." In a flash, he'd handed them over.

"I'll give you a few human moments, Miss Stackhouse. Think well." He strode to the door and exited, leaving me blissfully alone. I leaned my head back, eyes closed, and let out a shaky breath.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Characters belong to CH and AB. Please review!

* * *

Previously:

 _"I'll give you a few human moments, Miss Stackhouse. Think well." He strode to the door and exited, leaving me blissfully alone. I leaned my head back, eyes closed, and let out a shaky breath._

* * *

I had always been a big fan of _Gone With the Wind_ ; my personal motto was practically, "I'll think about it tomorrow". There was always something I could do to put off any heavy thinking—work, church, cleaning, sun-bathing, reading trashy romance novels—not that I didn't like to think or use my brain. But there was just something about having to keep other people's thoughts out constantly that really made your brain feel too tired to entertain heavy thoughts.

But stuck in the office of the warehouse of a fucking kidnapping _vampire_ , I really had no choice but to face them. I was drained and hungry (that burger felt like it was eons ago), which never helped when you were trying to bear up under any kind of pressure. So I finally gave in and let the stress of the last 24 hours wash over me.

Realistically, I knew that my biggest concern wasn't being slipped some of his blood. I knew that I had other things to worry about—Gran, my questions, my very life—but I just felt so… _violated_. It seemed trivial in light of my situation, but I hadn't felt so helpless since I was a child. If he'd asked, of course I'd have refused to drink his blood, no matter how sweet it tasted. But being forced without even being asked, it made me feel just dirty, the kind that sits under your skin and you have to almost scrub yourself raw to feel like you've gotten clean.

Crying about it felt stupid, and I knew my face would get blotchy and red; I am absolutely not a 'pretty crier'. But feeling the first few tears drip down my face felt almost cathartic. It felt like I was releasing some of the pain of not just the past day, but also a little bit of pent-up rage and self-loathing that had been bottled up for almost two decades. It didn't make me feel completely better, but I did feel a little bit cleansed.

My crying jag only lasted a few minutes, and I worried briefly that I wouldn't have time to get my thoughts together. I wanted to get as much information as possible; hopefully I'd learn something useful to my plight. Mr. Northman insisted I would never leave his care, but I was too stubborn to just accept that fate. With that thought in mind, I leaned on the desk and started writing.

Getting the questions written down helped me organize all the errant thoughts in my head; every little detail I'd shoved to the back of my brain in the past twenty-four hours was now being sifted through mentally. It couldn't have been very long that I was left to my own devices, but I did have enough time to get my shit together. I felt more in control, more at ease.

I stood up to stretch out the kinks in my muscles when the door opened and the Sheriff walked in, Pamela trailing behind him holding a white take-out bag in her hand, identical to the one I'd been given during the day by the snarly-minded man. She held it out to me and I took it gratefully.

"One of the Weres brought you dinner," She drawled as she clacked by me to lean against the desk as Mr. Northman took his seat behind the desk.

"I assume you've got your thoughts in order?"

I nodded and glanced down at my paper, picking the question that I figured would take the longest to answer so I'd have time to eat. I was starving.

"You said there were other things out there, and Pamela said—"

"Pam." She interrupted. "Let's not be so formal. I'm sure we'll grow to be very close friends." I didn't like how she leered at me, but I shrugged it off and continued.

" _Pam_ said Sam is a 'shifter'. What exactly is out there, and what is a Shifter?" I settled myself into the chair and took a bite of my second burger of the day, too happy to be eating to care about the amount of grease I'd ingested today.

"A true Shifter is someone who can change into any animal they see at will, although they are compelled to change every full moon, just as all were-animals are. Werewolves are the most common, although there are others—horses, tigers, even a pack of were-panthers that live in Hot Shot." I choked on a bite of food, and the Sheriff paused until I got myself under control.

"The guards here are Werewolves. When we move you to the safe house, you'll be watched during the day by a Werewolf in my…employ." I interrupted him.

"Every guard here is a Werewolf?"

"That's what I said, sweetheart." A proverbial lightbulb went off in my brain. I couldn't hear the people very well because they weren't completely human. Sam wasn't either, and his thoughts had the same kind of feeling as the people here. I instantly felt stupid for not making the connection before; Pam and the Sheriff were just voids, because they were vampires. The Werewolves and Sam sounded different than humans, because they _weren't_ human. I could've smacked myself.

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" The Sheriff cocked his head just slightly to the side.

"Everyone sounds different—the species, I mean. I can't hear everything from Weres, and if Sam is anything to go by, the same goes for Shifters. Unless your culprit is a human, it's going to be hard for me to pull answers from them. You'll have to use your glamour or something."

"Weres are resistant and Vampires are immune to glamour; but we have other ways." His smile was cruel and cold, and as much as I didn't want to look like a scared rabbit, my heart thumped in my chest and cold tendrils of fear ran down my spine.

' _He's not human,'_ I reminded myself.

"But, the point is moot. A vampire is the least likely to be selling blood, and Weres don't associate with Vampires." He paused for a second, and his eyes got a bit of a faraway look in them. His brows furrowed and his fingers tapped against his desk before he refocused back on me. He didn't physically shake himself out of his reverie, but I could still almost feel him pulling himself back into the present. "No, our culprit is most likely human. And fortunately for us, you can read them perfectly.

"But, we've gotten off-topic. Aside from the various Weres and Shifters, there are demons, fairies, dwarves, all manner of things. Perhaps one day I'll bring in one of each species to see if you can read them." Jesus Christ. Were dragons real, too? I pushed that thought out of my head, afraid to ask. Giant, flying lizards would really be my tipping point, and I had better shit to talk about just now.

"Pam said you're her Maker. What exactly does that mean?"

"It means I made her Vampire. When a human is drained of the majority of their blood, and then filled back up with Vampire blood, they begin their change and rise as one of us."

I had finished my food by this point and felt infinitely better. "And you drink blood? Like, to survive, instead of food?"

"Yes." His face was impassive. I swallowed the lump that had risen in my throat at his tone.

"Do you plan on drinking mine?" I narrowed my eyes a little bit, trying to portray more confidence than I felt. He smirked again.

"Oh, you'll be begging me to drink you before long."

I snorted. "The Hell I will."

He smirked wider. "We can make it very…pleasurable." The last word rolled off his tongue, his mouth caressing it as he spoke; part of me thought it was sexy—he was an incredibly handsome man, what woman wouldn't be a little bit seduced?—but, thankfully, most of me was still in my right mind. I wrinkled my nose.

"Good for you. But I won't be offering to _feed you_ , ever. You want a willing meal, you'll have to get it somewhere else."

Pam cackled. "You've certainly got your work cut out for you, Eric. For how sweet she smells, there's certainly a lot of _spice_ in this one." She licked her descended fangs. I shot her a quick glare.

"Do you plan on using making me use my telepathy again after we're done with this vampire-blood-drug-ring?"

"Yes," Mr. Northman answered at once. "It's the only reason I allowed the exchange. In the end, I benefit more from having a personal telepath than having one dead vampire drainer. Besides, you'll be sitting in the lap of luxury the rest of your life; this will just be you earning your keep. It will certainly be a step-up from your living conditions in that ramshackle farmhouse you called home." I noticed he used the past tense here—'called' home, not 'call' home. But that wasn't what got my hackles up this time.

"You listen here, my Gran did her damnedest by me and Jason. That _ramshackle farmhouse_ has been in my family for generations, and while it may not be a grand ol' estate, it's my home, no matter if I ever go back there or not. Filling your life with nice, shiny things don't make you rich where it counts, and my Gran made sure my heart is just awash in wealth. Somehow I doubt the same can be said for you."

He opened his mouth to speak, but I was on a real tangent now; something about him just got under my skin and fired me up.

"Furthermore," I spat, "I'm not some lazy tramp, waiting on a sugar daddy to take care of me. I'm doing just fine in life without needing someone like you to put me up in a gilded cage and _earn my keep_ , and I'll thank you to remember that."

His eyes were shining with mirth, and now his fangs were down too, Pam still leaning against the desk as she watched our exchange. If arguing were a sport, she'd probably consider this the equivalent of the Superbowl.

"I love a feisty woman. I bet you're a Hellcat in bed."

I flushed, glad that at least Jason hadn't told him I was a pitiful, mid-twenties virgin on top of being a mind-reader. "Go fuck yourself." He laughed again, before sobering up.

"I apologize for offending you, Miss Stackhouse. Most women I've encountered would welcome the chance to be taken care of."

"I'm not most women." I shot back, slowly settling back down. At least I got an apology. He regarded me for a moment.

"No, you aren't." He was quiet for another moment. "Anymore questions?"

"Somehow, I doubt I'll ever be out of them, especially around you. But my curiosity is satisfied for right now." Not to mention I was wary of getting my heart rate up again. I was liable to have a heart attack before the week was out, at this rate.

"Did you look through the dossier of women?"

"Briefly. There are a few who I'd check first, but for the most part, Jason has kept his conquests fairly clean. I'd check Maudette Pickens first. Dawn Green is about as clean as your average person, but I know Jason takes up with her every couple months. Nancy O'Hare, she's out of Shreveport. Jason's brought her into the bar a couple times, and she likes to do hallucinogens. Crystal Norris, from Hot Shot, seems okay, but that whole area is rife with drugs, and I've never had a chance to really listen to her. Most everybody 'round here has smoked weed or drinks a little more than they should, but those are the first four I'd start with if you're looking for the harder stuff." I shrugged. "Just pick a fifth person and I'll read 'em."

His fingers tapped the desk again. "Very well. We'll start tomorrow. Tonight, we'll settle you into your new home; tomorrow we'll interrogate the first batch, and go from there. Pamela has made sure to stock everything you might need, as well as some luxuries to keep you occupied. While we're getting you settled in, Pam will gather more information on the women, and at first dark tomorrow night, we will start." The Sheriff stood from his desk. He spoke to his Child (so, _so_ weird to be using that terminology) rapidly in another language and she blurred away.

"If you'll follow me, Miss Stackhouse, we need to be getting you home." He held his hand out, presumably to help me stand. Oh, he had manners now, huh?

I turned my nose up at his outstretched palm and rose to my feet. "You're not going to fly us, are you? Because I really would have appreciated a warning last time." He chuckled.

"No. I will be driving us. Come."

"I'm not a fucking dog!" I said to his retreating back.

"Of course not." He replied sardonically. "That would be your boss."

I harrumphed, crossing my arms as I followed him from the office. Sam not telling me about his… _otherness_ had rankled me a bit, and hurt my feelings. I wasn't really feeling up to defending him against this insulting Vampire. He led me to the front door—this place was bigger than I thought, with a few men loafing around.

' _Not men,'_ I reminded myself, _'Werewolves. Oh my God.'_

There was a Were sitting at a card table near the door, and as we approached, he stood to unlatch the locks and chain on the front door. He even opened it for us, sweet thing that he was. I rolled my eyes to myself. The door closed behind us after we exited, the sounds of the locks being turned again mingling with the sounds of a warm, Louisiana night—frogs, owls, crickets; soft, warm breezes. I inhaled the smell of nature, breathing in the fresh air. I closed my eyes for a second, reveling; I hadn't realized how stale that warehouse was.

"This way, Miss Stackhouse." My lids raised again, and I made my way to where the Sheriff was, standing next to a bright red Corvette. Of course he'd have the car of a man going through a mid-life crisis. I smirked, amused by my self.

The car beeped as he unlocked it and we slid in. There was barely time to latch my seatbelt and get comfortable before the engine was purring and he was speeding out of the parking lot.

"Jesus!" I said, holding onto the door. "Slow down, would ya?"

"You are in no danger from me crashing. My reflexes are impeccable."

"Being a good driver isn't about how good _you_ are, it's about how much you pay attention to other drivers! You may live forever, but I don't! Slow the hell down!" To my surprise, he did. He was still going over the speed limit, but I didn't feel like I was in imminent danger anymore. That was something.

We were quiet the rest of the ride, and I sunk into the void of his brain.

I was in that peaceful place between sleep and consciousness when I felt his cool fingers brushing my hair back. My first irrational thought was, ' _I didn't ask for a hairbrush.'_ My second was how nice it felt to experience physical touch without any accompanying thoughts.

"We've arrived." He said in his deep, honey-coated voice. I 'hmm'-ed at him, acknowledging he'd spoken, as I stretched in his tiny car. How did he fold himself into that miniscule seat?

I got out of the car and saw we were in front of a nondescript one-story house. We made our way to the front door—it was painted a deep, calm green—and he unlocked it before standing to the side.

"Would you like a tour?" He asked. I shrugged. "Follow me."

I walked inside and found myself inside of a tasteful, yet plain living room. Everything was plain—off-white walls, tan furniture, no decorations, nothing on the walls. There wasn't even a throw blanket on the beige couch, which I found to be incredibly sad for some reason. All homes needed a throw blanket snuggle under, in my opinion.

"This is the main living area. There is a television in the armoire against that wall"—he pointed at the wooden wardrobe, the doors closed—"You can fiddle with it to your heart's content later. For now, let's continue."

The house was pretty basic; there was a kitchen, already stocked with basic food items, which I was happy about. There was a dining room, as empty of personality as the living room had been, a powder room, two bedrooms, and a full bath—all of which was, of course, neutral and bland. There was no life in this place, and it only made me more determined to be free.

We ended the tour at the master bedroom. There was an attached walk-in closet and a master bath. The closet was stocked with some clothes that looked about my size; the room and bathroom were bland, bland, bland. This whole damn house was dull.

"Everything at this house is at your disposal. My dayman, Bobby, will be by tomorrow to check on you and your guard. If you need anything, he will be able to get it for you. Your guard is a Werewolf by the name of Alcide Herveaux; he was at the warehouse today, though I'm not sure if you've made his acquaintance. He will be here by sunrise." I groaned internally; I hoped it wasn't the man who'd brought me lunch. He didn't seem amenable to helping me out, so hopefully this Alcide Herveaux was different.

"The house is being watched by another Vampire until he arrives; I ask that you don't try to run away. I will be _very_ unhappy with you." I could hear the predator in his voice again, his glacial blue eyes holding me in place. I nodded unhappily.

"I'll leave you to yourself for the night; I'm sure you'd like some time to come to grips with everything you've learned. I will be here tomorrow night to collect you and get started. Good night, Miss Stackhouse." With that, he was gone.

And I was alone.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: All characters belong to CH/AB.

I know it seems like a boring chapter, but we're getting there, I promise. I want to write a realistic slow-burn. Please review, it makes me want to write more! ;)

* * *

Previously:

 _"The house is being watched by another Vampire until he arrives; I ask that you don't try to run away. I will be very unhappy with you." I could hear the predator in his voice again, his glacial blue eyes holding me in place. I nodded unhappily._

 _"I'll leave you to yourself for the night; I'm sure you'd like some time to come to grips with everything you've learned. I will be here tomorrow night to collect you and get started. Good night, Miss Stackhouse." With that, he was gone._

 _And I was alone._

* * *

I stretched my mind as far as I could, searching. There were a few normal minds at the edge of my mental net—I truly had no idea how far I could 'see', but I resolved to rectify that as soon as possible. Lurking somewhere behind the house was a blank spot. I resisted the urge to pout; part of me had been hoping he was bluffing.

' _I wouldn't put it past him to have a whole line of creepy bloodsuckers spying on me,'_ I groused to myself, before ending my little pity party and going to explore the house on my own. The first thing I did was check for a coffee maker; I nearly broke down in tears when I spotted one tucked in the corner of the counter. Some digging turned up coffee grounds, sugar, and even basic creamer.

' _How sweet of him,'_ I snorted to myself. It didn't matter to me that it was—I glanced at the microwave, which read 12:44—now past midnight. I'd been without coffee for far too long. Besides, if I was going to be up all night tomorrow night, I might as well stay up late tonight.

While the coffee was brewing, I ventured into the living room. I pulled open the doors of the armoire that held the TV and was grateful to see a cable box tucked onto a shelf next to a DVD player. At the very bottom was a small collection of DVDs; I wasn't a huge fan of sitting mindlessly in front of the television, but it was a nice creature comfort.

The remote proved to be a bit of a challenge; it was fancy and had a lot of buttons. Gran and I only had basic cable, so this contraption was going to take some getting used to. I managed to get the TV and cable box both turned on, and the station changed to a channel with a scrolling menu. No TV Guide magazines for this vamp, nosiree.

That thought brought me up short. Where did he live, I wondered. He'd called this a safe house, so he must have his own home. Maybe that explained the lack of personal effects here. I couldn't imagine even a stone-cold killer like him wanting to live like this. I shrugged that line of thought off and went to check on my coffee.

I made a cup and kept wandering the house. I checked the closets (empty), the dressers in the spare bedrooms (empty), the linen closet in the hall (extra towels and bed sheets; how thoughtful). Truthfully, I hadn't really expected to find anything, but it was still disappointing to come up empty-handed.

The master bathroom had better results: I found a hair brush and even some hair ties, as well as the same toiletries I'd used at the warehouse. A glance in the mirror proved my hair looked a fright, and I grimaced before brushing the knots out and pulling it into a loose bun. I padded back to the living room, sinking into the soft, beige couch and setting my cup right onto the plain wooden coffee table. I was half-hoping to leave coffee rings on the table—partly because it would be a very petty way of sassing him, and also just to have some sort of personal touch; to show someone had been in here.

I soon got lost in the wonders of cable TV, excited to find a Buffy the Vampire Slayer marathon on.

' _How fitting,'_ I thought with a giggle. _'Maybe she's got some tips for me.'_

* * *

I woke to someone pounding on the front door. I moaned in discomfort; I had fallen asleep on the couch, my neck at a weird angle. I could feel the stiffness in my limbs as I tried to unfold myself to go answer the door. I hadn't even had a blanket, and I cursed Sheriff Northman for his oversight. Maybe I'd tell his _dayman_ Bobby bring one over. Immediately, I buried that thought; I wasn't going to need a throw blanket because I was going to get out of here, one way or another.

I hobbled to the door and threw it open to reveal a very, _very_ good looking man; he was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. He looked like he could be on the cover of the bodice rippers I borrowed from the library.

He cleared his throat, and I flushed, realizing I'd been caught staring. I stuck my hand out and smiled at him. "Are you Mr. Herveaux?"

"I am," He affirmed, his huge, warm hand wrapping around mine. His skin was even more tan than mine, and I practically lived in the sun—which, I noted, hadn't even fully risen yet. "You're Northman's pet?"

I frowned at him. "Excuse me?"

"You know—his lady?" We were staring at each other at this point, him in confusion and I in anger. If that damn vampire didn't stop treating me like a dog, I was going to stake him-Buffy had been a very insightful teacher, which was an odd thing to say about a television show, but gleaning applicable information from a Joss Whedon character was probably the least weird thing to happen to me in the past two days, so whatever.

"I am most definitely _not_ his lady, and I am nobody's pet. If he talks about his _ladies_ like that, no wonder he's not married! The only thing I am to him, is his damn prisoner, and I'll thank you not to forget it!"

He put his hands up in front of him defensively. "Woah, little lady. I'm just goin' off what he told me. Didn't mean to offend." I caught the barest hint of pity, and an idea came to me so quickly I damn near got whiplash from it. The Sheriff had mentioned he was at the warehouse, and if he felt bad for me _now_ , it stood to reason he had been the source of pity I'd felt during my stay there. I could use this to my advantage, I decided, and I rearranged my face to be contrite.

"I'm sorry. I'm a little on edge, y'know, what with being abducted by a bloodsucker and all." Mr. Northman had also mentioned Wares and Vampires didn't get along, and I decided to play on that as well as his heartstrings. Maybe even make him feel guilty. "He told me you were at the warehouse." I put a little bit of accusation in my tone and subsequently caught another whiff of pity in his brain.

"He told us you were his pet that had misbehaved. Northman doles out most of his vamp-related punishment there, so we didn't think nothin' of it." His eyes were sorrowful and I did an internal happy dance. This man was already an easier target than his buddy from the previous day; I'd have to be careful not to over-do it, though.

"Do all vampires treat their 'pets' like that?"

"Why don't we take this inside, Miss…?"

"Oh, shoot! Stackhouse. Sookie Stackhouse." I beamed at him and stood to the side. "Come on in, Mr. Herveaux. Would you like anything to drink?"

"I'd love some coffee, Miss Stackhouse." He replied as I led him towards the kitchen.

"Oh, just Sookie, please. I'll make us a pot of coffee real quick. Are you hungry?" My inner hostess was out in full force. If the way to a man's heart was through his stomach, the path to his guilty conscience had to be on the same proverbial route.

"If it's not too much trouble, yes ma'am. And since we're on a first name basis, please call me Alcide." After getting the coffee pot started, I took inventory of what I could make with the ingredients on hand. I hadn't expected a whole lot; something told me the vampires didn't exactly know their way around a recipe book, what with only drinking blood and all. To my surprise, however, I found all that I needed to make biscuits and sausage gravy; the perfect comfort breakfast.

Alcide and I made small talk as I cooked, him seated at the island as I moved around the kitchen. The rays of the sun illuminated the house slowly, and I learned more about my Werewolf guard. In addition to being a Werewolf, he owned a construction company with his father, who was also a Were. Alcide explained to me that only the first offspring of any Were-coupling would be able to shift, as well as how most every Were ran with a pack.

I set his plate down in front of him, heaped with food, and waited until he'd taken his first few bites to ask, "Alcide, if you've got a job, why do you work for Mr. Northman? He said y'alls…species…didn't get along with each other."

He swallowed a hearty bite of food before answering. "Dad likes to gamble. Few years back, he got in too deep, ran up a debt we'd never be able to afford. Long story short, the Sheriff bought the marker, and I work it off whenever he needs me, one job at a time."

"You guard his abductees often?" I asked, keeping my tone deliberately light. He smiled back.

"Can't say that I do, Sookie. You would be the first." I could feel little tendrils of attraction mixing with his thoughts, and I winced internally. Leading him on wasn't something I wanted to do; twenty-five year old virgin or not, I wasn't lonely enough to use someone. Although, what with him being harder to read, maybe a relationship with a Were would be my best bet of not dying as a spinster. Vampires would be a better bet, I mused, but I had a feeling I'd been ruined for other vamps by the Sheriff.

I shook myself from my silent ruminations, refocusing my eyes on Alcide. "If you don't mind, I'm gonna head for a nap. I didn't get much sleep last night, and I have a feeling tonight will be a long night. Make yourself at home; Mr. Northman said his dayman would be here at some point today, although I'm not sure when." I rose from the table, gesturing at his empty plate. He handed it to me with a nod of thanks and, after quickly putting away the leftovers, I padded back to my bedroom.

No, _the_ bedroom. Not _my_ bedroom.

Jesus. One night, and I was already thinking of this place as home.

 _I'll be damned if I spend more than a week here,_ I decided, crawling under the covers. It took me barely any time at all to fall into blissful slumber.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I own only the plot.

A/N: Just to be clear, Alcide is NOT a love interest. Bear with me. :)

* * *

Last time:

 _Jesus. One night, and I was already thinking of this place as home._

 _I'll be damned if I spend more than a week here,_ _I decided, crawling under the covers. It took me barely any time at all to fall into blissful slumber._

* * *

Being woken up by someone banging on the front door was _really_ getting old. I rolled out of bed groggily, with that peculiar feeling you always seem to have when you take a nap during the day, like your head is full of damp cotton. I opened my mind up as I made my way to the door. Curiously, Alcide's snarly brain was nowhere to be found. A quick glance at a wall clock told me it wasn't even noon yet, and my heart gave a little jolt realizing I'd been alone. The perfect chance to make a getaway!

 _Damn._

The brain behind the front door was completely unhappy, I picked up, but I pasted a polite smile on my face anyway as I opened the door to stop the incessant pounding.

"Hi there, can I help you?" The balding, middle-aged man on the other side of the door scowled at me, his meaty fists clenched. His head was full of insults, which was just rude, considering he didn't know me. He was thinking I was a live-in tramp, using his master for his money to laze around. In his opinion, I definitely wasn't pretty enough for that.

I crinkled my nose at him, more than a little offended by this putz.

"I am Mr. Northman's dayman. He sent me to see if you need anything." He grumbled. I'd never heard anyone sound as surly as he did in that moment.

Whatever. If he disliked me for no reason, that was going to be his own problem, not mine. In fact, if he wanted to be such a jackass, I'd give him a reason to be one. My polite smile returned.

"Anything?" I asked sweetly. He glowered.

"Yes, ma'am." My smile turned into a grin

"Why, there sure is something you can do for me!" I leaned against the door, still grinning. "It's awful cold here in the house sometimes, and I'd do just about anything for a nice, soft throw blanket for the couch. Something cozy, with a nice rustic feel? It'll need a fairly high thread count, of course, and not too big, or it just won't look right here in the living room. A splash of color would be nice, too."

I was honestly just rattling stipulations off without thought, and it made me vindictively happy to hear him getting angrier with every word that fell out of my mouth. Good little gopher that he was, Bobby was already thinking which stores were most likely to carry what I asked for, and they all seemed to be over an hour away. What a shame.

His jaw worked as his teeth clenched; I swear I almost heard the veneer being sheared right off his molars. "I'll get right on that. Anything else, ma'am?"

I thought for a moment, considering; his bad mood simmered, just under the boiling point. I decided he'd had enough for now. What a pansy.

"No, Mr. Burnham, I think that'll do it!" He gave me a strange look, and I caught him wondering if the Sheriff had told me his last name. He didn't realize I'd plucked it right out of his head, and I was tempted to tell him I could hear every nasty thought in his head, just to freak him out. That particular train of thought was discarded quickly; a girl needs to keep her secrets, right?

"I'll be back as soon as I have your _throw blanket_ , ma'am." He turned and lumbered down the walkway to his car, not even bothering to say goodbye. I rolled my eyes and closed the door.

A shower seemed like an amazing idea, and I was halfway to the master bathroom when I paused mid-step. No one was here; the Sheriff wouldn't be here until after dark, and it wasn't even noon; Alcide could be gone for a while yet, and Bobby definitely would.

I could leave. It could be hours before someone noticed I was missing. This could be my only chance.

My heart was racing in my chest at the thought. _I could escape._ I turned on my heel, staring at the front door, considering. It was just so tempting. _I could be free again, after only two days._ Wouldn't that just burn _his_ butt? My weight shifted from one foot to the other. _I could go home._

But…he had said he could track me. My gut told me that now wasn't the time to check how true that really was. I hadn't done nearly enough mind-reading-reconnaissance, I couldn't realistically get very far on foot, not to mention the Sheriff knew where I lived. And Jason, too—although I do admit that I wasn't feeling particularly protective of him at that point, all things considered.

I chewed my lip and with a defeated sigh, I gave up the notion of making my great escape. It twisted my insides to let such an open opportunity slip by, but the likelihood of it being successful was slim to none. No, I decided, I'd do better to bide my time, gather more information, and take them all by surprise. Maybe the longer I stuck around, the more his guard would fall, and he'd never see it coming.

I let the shower wash away my misgivings, and a thorough self-pampering made me feel more assured. After some more internal debate, I even allowed myself to look through the clothes stocked in the walk-in closet. Nothing fancy, obviously, and not a huge selection; but there were some nice, soft jeans and a selection of plain t-shirts. I opted for a vibrant red; I needed some kind of color in this monotone house.

Just as I was plating a sandwich, I felt what I now could identify quickly as a Were brain signature pop up instantly on my radar. I started, almost dropping the ceramic plate; there had been no indication anyone was approaching the house. They were just _there_. I turned to look at the back sliding door, probing the brain until I figured out it was just Alcide. My brow furrowed as I considered why I hadn't noticed him before; I'd been keeping my shields down the past few days, just in case. Plus, since I was more or less alone mentally, there was no need to expend unnecessary mental energy keeping the shields up.

I was prepared for Alcide to walk through the door; my lips were even poised to ask him if he wanted me to fix him some lunch. I am, after all, a Southern lady, and hospitality is in our blood. What I wasn't ready for, however, was a very _naked,_ very _buff_ Alcide to come waltzing through that door. I yelped and covered my face, glad I'd set my plate down on the counter or I really would have dropped it out of shock.

I'd seen naked men in the minds of many women—and many men, too. I hadn't, however, seen a naked man in the flesh, and my face burned at my first sighting. He was incredibly…well built, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't attracted to him physically; Lord, was I ever. I'm a hot-blooded woman, after all, with an entire lifetime of pent-up sexual frustration to boot.

But a little warning would be nice.

"Jesus Christ, Alcide, put some damn clothes on! What on Earth are you doin', walkin' around naked?!" I kept my eyes covered as I screeched at him, my head turned away just for good measure—just in case I was tempted to peek through my fingers.

"Sorry, Sook," I could hear the contrition in his voice. "I was out patrolling, and shifting in clothes would just destroy 'em. I'll go get dressed real quick."

He had been in wolf form? Interesting. In a lot of movies, they only turn into wolves on the full moon. I'd like to see him as a wolf. When Alcide reappeared in the same clothes he'd arrived in this morning, I asked him about it.

"Nah, we can shift when we want. It takes some energy from us, and we don't have a choice but to shift into our animal and run on full moons, but any other time, it's by choice." I hmm-ed at him in response and set a sandwich in front of him. I'd waited til he was back to eat, so we could sit down together, and that had given me just enough time to make a fresh pot of coffee to revive over.

Alcide and I talked of nothing else of importance, really; just regular conversation, like two friends chatting. We watched some crappy television. We laughed at bad jokes. We commiserated over ' _those goddamn bloodsuckers'_. We ate an early dinner.

I was starting to get more nervous the lower the sun sank. "When are you leaving?" I asked Alcide.

He scratched scruffy hair on his chin. He was one of those rare men that look good with some stubble. "I'm to wait 'til Northman shows up, then I'll be on my way. Tomorrow at dawn I'll be back, though." I nodded. Despite my trepidation, I derived some comfort from that. At least I'd have a friendly face.

We were laughing at something dumb Alcide had said when the door opened roughly and Mr. Northman stalked in, clearly unhappy. I couldn't fathom what had upset him so early in his day—well, his night, to be exact; getting used to his opposite schedule was getting to be a real pain in my ass—but _something_ clearly had. Our giggles died away instantly as he glared at us.

"Wolf. Leave." He spat. A low rumble sounded briefly in Alcide's chest, not unlike the growl of a wolf. Fear spiked momentarily in my heart, and the growl subsided quickly. His thoughtfulness warmed my heart just a little bit.

That was a sweet thing to do, on his part, even if my reaction had been to something he'd done. It was like a puppy licking your hand after biting it.

I shook the thought of Alcide as a dog out of my head, rising with him to walk him to the front door. Angry eyes followed our path, and I did my best to ignore them.

"Sookie. I'll see you tomorrow mornin'. You be safe tonight." He bent down to give me a friendly hug, and I returned it gratefully. It hadn't occurred to me how much I interacted physically with people until I was starved for contact; in fact, I avoided touching people, on account of it amplifying my ability to hear their every thought. But the fact remained I still craved the touch of another human being.

Besides, it wasn't as if Alcide was hard to look at. He was warm and solid and, even if he was keeping me from getting free, it still _felt_ like he was on my side.

Before I could absorb too much comfort from my new friend, an angry snarl sounded right behind me. I jumped away from Alcide, frightened, eyes wide as I stared at the Sheriff. He was sneering at Alcide and, before either of us could react, he had slammed the door shut and pinned me against it.


	9. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer: I own only the plot._

A/N: Keep the reviews coming! :) I never expected to get so many people who liked my writing. I am so humbled!

* * *

 _"Sookie. I'll see you tomorrow mornin'. You be safe tonight." He bent down to give me a friendly hug, and I returned it gratefully. It hadn't occurred to me how much I interacted physically with people until I was starved for contact; in fact, I avoided touching people, on account of it amplifying my ability to hear their every thought. But the fact remained I still craved the touch of another human being._ _  
_

 _Besides, it wasn't as if Alcide was hard to look at. He was a warm and solid and, even if he was keeping me from getting free, it still felt like he was on my side._ _  
_

 _Before I could absorb too much comfort from my new friend, an angry snarl sounded right behind me. I jumped away from Alcide, frightened, eyes wide as I stared at the Sheriff. He was sneering at Alcide and, before either of us could react, he had slammed the door shut and pinned me against it.  
_

* * *

 _I'm really sick of being manhandled._

Maybe I should have been more concerned about my wellbeing, what with being sandwiched between an angry vampire and a door, but I don't think it's so beyond the pale to be exasperated when said vampire has no boundaries. I had consoled myself to the fact that he didn't have any manners, like any old ragamuffin born in a barn.

 _Hell, I didn't know_ when _he was born, so that old idiom might be true for him._

But that didn't mean he could just push me around, all willy-nilly. If I didn't push back a little bit, he would walk all over me for the rest of the time I was holed up in his safe house. So, with that thought, I narrowed my eyes and sneered right back at Mr. Northman.

"And just what is your problem now? Did somebody piss in your morning Cheerios?"

The growl reverberating in his chest grew louder, and the vibrations transferred from his torso to mine. I could even feel it in my neck a little bit, on account of the height difference.

"The _wolf_ is here to guard you, not for you to hop in his lap!" the sharp crack of wood splintering beside my head was barely audible over his continued snarling. It was kind of impressive he could talk and make those animal noises at the same time, I thought absent-mindedly.

 _Vampirism sure gives you some weird perks_ , I mused, before mentally flicking that thought away like an irksome fly. _Did he just call me a slut?_

"You wanna run that by me again? I could've swore you just insinuated I'm a tramp, but that _just can't_ be right," I hissed at him, my own fists balling up at my sides. In response, he pressed closer, every bit of us touching; not in a sexy, take-me-now way, but more of an angry, I-want-to-intimidate-you way.

Still, I had to consciously make myself not imagine what all of those muscles looked like—every ridge felt like cut marble, and there were _many_ ridges.

"And why is that, Miss Stackhouse?" He asked lowly, his lip lifting on one side mockingly. More intimidation tactics. "You seem to have gotten incredibly friendly with him in such a short time; not to mention your brother"—more splintering wood sounds near my head-"having such a _long_ list of bedmates. You bear so many other resemblances, why should your promiscuity be any different?"

I rolled my eyes. It was none of this man's business how _unpromiscuous_ I was.

"Jason also apparently drinks Vampire blood and is as dumb as a box of rocks. I am neither of those things, so I don't know why you got it in your head I was getting overly-friendly with the day guard that _you fucking sent!_ Why do you even care?" I was physically pushing back at this point, I was so riled up. He was much stronger and probably not the least bit intimidated, but it's the thought that counts, really.

That seemed to bring him up short, however. He gaped at me for a moment, and I felt him back away ever so slightly. I'd obviously caught him off guard. Talk about small victories.

It was a moment before he collected himself, and I was quite smug I'd unbalanced him. "If you're fucking your guard, he is compromised and can't keep an eye on you effectively. Perhaps I need to change them out."

"Why would you even think that? What have I done that makes you think I'm so classless?!" I was a little miffed he thought I'd do something so low, but also a little flattered that he thought me that crafty and determined.

His jaw clenched and unclenched; I could see the muscle working in his chiseled jaw. "I have…felt…things today. From you. You have been happy and relaxed and _enjoying yourself_." The last bit he rumbled out through clenched teeth. He was no longer pushing me bodily into the door, but still too close to be entirely comfortable. Every time I breathed, my chest mushed into his.

I was bewildered. I had also managed to forget he could feel what I was feeling, thanks to the invasion of his blood. I stamped out the sudden rise of revulsion and stomach knots that accompanied the memory.

"What, am I supposed to be miserable all damn day?"

"Yes!" What?

"What?" Ah, yes, there's the eloquent Sookie we've been waiting on.

Eric didn't even reply, he just snarled again, leaning his head against the cracked door. A slow inhale sounded, right next to my ear.

"Are you smelling me again?" I pushed at his chest slightly. What a strange day this was turning out to be. The past several days that we'd been _acquainted,_ he had been the smarmy, arrogant, sometimes homicidal, Vampire. What had flipped his switch so fast? Maybe it was just his tactic to throw me off balance.

"Yes." Eric didn't even hesitate to answer. At least he didn't lie.

"Why?"

His shoulders lifted, briefly obscuring my view. The Sheriff really was huge.

"You smell…so sweet. Even with the stink of wolf on you." He took another deep breath, as if to make his point.

Ugh! What a crappy thing to say. I was coming to learn he was the master of backhanded compliments. Suddenly he leaned away, and he was back to being impassive. Whatever.

"Come. We have places to be." He walked out of the house, and I followed after checking the damage he'd inflicted on the wooden door. Thankfully, he hadn't punctured through the entire frame—I assume with his hand—but it was going to be a definite eyesore.

I slid into the same cherry-colored Corvette, he had dropped me off in the day before, and he wasted no time in peeling out.

The ride was a little uncomfortable; He wasn't playing any music, we weren't talking, and his sudden shifts in character were just downright strange. It wasn't long, however, before I realized we were heading back to Bon Temps, and not the warehouse, as I'd expected. My eyebrows rose, and he must have felt my confusion, because he answered before I even asked anything.

"We will interview the suspects in their own homes, with the exception of the Were panther, Crystal Norris. It would require too much time and effort to glamour away so many people going missing at once."

"Why aren't we going to Hot Shot?"

His grip tightened on the wheel. The sound of skin sliding on leather creaked through the silent car; was he annoyed that I couldn't figure that out on my own? I wasn't exactly an expert on shit like this. Or maybe he just didn't like Were panthers in particular?

His deep voice brought me back to the present as he replied, "Shifters are harder to glamour; they would also smell me hanging around, and the point is to not leave any traces. Pam is acquiring the Were panther as we speak, and we will meet her at the warehouse later."

"That makes sense," I conceded.

We were quiet the rest of the ride, uncomfortably so, and I wasn't the least bit surprised when we ended up on Maudette Pickens' street. The surprising part was Eric parking a-ways from her duplex.

"Maudette lives there," I informed him, indicating her side of the house.

"Yes, but we have some things to go over before we go in." He turned the car completely off and turned in his seat and caught my gaze. He somehow managed to sprawl out in these tiny bucket seats, graceful and fearsome as a lion.

"First, you will stay by my side the entire time unless told otherwise. If you try to run, you'll not be leaving the warehouse again. Ever.

"Second, we need to go over how this will work. When she opens the door, I will glamour her to let me in-"

"Wait a minute," I interrupted, "That's true? You have to be invited in?"

He looked at me irritably. "Yes. Why do you think I had your brother try to lure you into the woods? It was so I could get to you before you made it inside."

"You move faster than I can. Why didn't you do it when I got our of my car? Or when I left work for Pete's sake?"

These questions had been burning in the back of my mind, but had never come up organically in conversation. I was glad the opportunity to ask had arose, because honestly, those seemed like big gaping holes in his plan of abduction.

"You needed to make it home, to avoid suspicion. The shifter would smell me outside of his bar-"

"Sam knows you? Like, well enough to smell you?"

"Yes. Are you done interrupting?" I mimicked zipping my lips shut and waved him on. One blond eyebrow rose smoothly and he continued.

"Your car was destroyed; it being gone without a trace will indicate you've run away voluntarily. This will make your human sheriffs less inclined to search very hard for you, which obviously works in our favor, not that you would be found anyway." His broad shoulders lifted in a nonchalant shrug, as if it weren't my seeming disappearance we were discussing.

"There also seems to be a…ward, of some sort, encompassing your grandmother's property. Generally speaking, it's only the threshold of residences we can't cross. I'd not been able to get even to the front porch, although I admit I don't know why that is." His lips thinned as he considered me, before opening to continue his monologue. Before he could get the first syllable out, I held my hand up, palm facing him, the other hand cradling my face.

"I just…need a human minute," I said, closing my eyes.

"Now is not the time for your _human minute_."

"I beg to differ. You want me to make this easier on you, shut up and give me a minute to process the fact that no one is going to care enough to look for me, and my Gran thinks I abandoned her!" I snapped. Mercifully, he was quiet.

My eyes stayed screwed shut to keep the tears at bay. He'd said multiple times that I was his prisoner for the rest of my life, but I honestly had never considered that an option. Either I was too stubborn or too determined to let this be the rest of my existence without a fight, or maybe a little bit of both. Whatever it was, it had been the one thing I could focus on.

I hadn't counted on the Sheriff thinking things through. I'd seen the holes in his plans and assumed that was just in his nature to overlook important shit, but miscalculations seemed to be the exception with him, not the rule. Disposing of my car, making sure I was seen leaving work, all the research he'd done into my brother's past—he clearly knew what he was doing. I'd been fooled by his missteps, although I was a little comforted the fact that he could mistakes. If he'd made them before, he'd make them again. I'd just have to be vigilant.

But, oh, _Gran_. She was going to think I just up and left her. If this Vampire got his way, she'd die thinking that. The only person on Earth who had loved me unconditionally, who had never thought I was a freak or crazy or stupid and had raised me to the best of her ability, who had sacrificed heavily for me _and_ Jason—she was going to be made to think I had gone without a word.

Despite all my efforts, several tears escaped, and then it was like the floodgates opened, the levies broke, the dams came crumbling down.

I was sobbing, doubled over, hugging my middle, face pressed to my knees. I was a little horrified to be crying in front of that jackass—it was, after all, his fault, and it felt like he had won something by crying in front of him—but mostly I just felt defeated. There was still the determination there, to go home and settle back into my normal life, but knowing how hurt Gran would be broke me in a way nothing else had been able to.

Eventually, I got my shit together and sat up. A handkerchief appeared in my vision and I wiped my face and blew my nose. A monogram was in the corner, simply the initials 'E.N.' embroidered in flowing script. Of course he keeps personalized hankies.

Instead of handing it back, I stuffed it in the pocket of my jeans, just in case another spontaneous crying spell hit. I took a shaky breath to steady myself, and decided to soldier on and completely ignore the pity party I had just thrown for myself.

"We didn't finish going over the second step." My voice was slightly hoarse, and I made a mental note to get some water when we got into Maudette's house.

"Of course. When she's been told to invite me in, I will question her while you read her. It shouldn't take very long; I assume you'll still hear everything while she's glamoured?"

I shrugged. "I'm not sure. I couldn't get anything from Jason, but he's the only one I've ever encountered."

He smiled. "That was part of his glamour. What of when I told him to leave?"

"Well…he did start thinking some normal things, for Jason. He was thinking of finding some random guy. It was still…weird, but slowly clearing." The Sheriff nodded.

"If you can't read through the glamour, we'll interrogate her without it, and I'll erase it from her memory later." He opened his car door slid out; I unbuckled my seat belt and did the same.

I was ready to get this night over with.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I own only the plot.

A/N: A few of you have expressed concern that Eric has too many mood swings, or that he's a dick to Sookie. Please remember he's a vampire, an old one who was taught that he can't love. Just keep with the story, please. And review! I love y'all's insights, including criticism.

* * *

Last time:

 _"We didn't finish going over the second step." My voice was slightly hoarse, and I made a mental note to get some water when we got into Maudette's house._

 _"Of course. When she's been told to invite me in, I will question her while you read her. It shouldn't take very long; I assume you'll still hear everything while she's glamoured?"_

 _I shrugged. "I'm not sure. I couldn't get anything from Jason, but he's the only one I've ever encountered."_

 _He smiled. "That was part of his glamour. What of when I told him to leave?"_

 _"Well…he did start thinking some normal things, for Jason. He was thinking of finding some random guy. It was still…weird, but slowly clearing." The Sheriff nodded._

 _"If you can't read through the glamour, we'll interrogate her without it, and I'll erase it from her memory later." He opened his car door slid out; I unbuckled my seat belt and did the same._

 _I was ready to get this night over with._

* * *

Fortunately for us, it didn't take long to get into Maudette's house. It wasn't incredibly late at night, and while I was hoping that I would be spotted by someone, Eric probably didn't share that sentiment. I considered briefly that being out and about this early at night was another misstep on his part, but decided to chalk it up to sheer confidence in his own self. I was wary to think his mistakes were truly mistakes anymore, after our little heart-to-heart in his car.

'Listening' to him glamour Maudette was a strange experience; the conscious part of her brain simply _stopped_. She was still there, her mind still functioning, but it was like she was hypnotized. In a sense, I suppose that was exactly what was happening. The static-y haze I'd gotten from Jason when he was operating under glamour was still there, but lessened quite a bit. I reasoned it was probably from the Sheriff telling Jason not to think of anything.

Maudette sat on her couch as she was directed, complacent as a cow. I lowered myself next to her, lightly resting my fingers on her arm. Eric sat gracefully on the coffee table in front of Maudette.

"Does touch help you read them?" He asked.

"Yes, but it usually makes things overwhelming. I can't stop the thoughts when I'm touching someone."

"Interesting," He murmured, before switching lanes and gazing at Maudette. Her mind got sharper when he did, not like she was becoming sentient again; it felt like she was just waiting for instruction. "Maudette, do you know Jason Stackhouse?"

My brother appeared in her head; a memory of him arriving at her door in the middle of the night, looking for a romp. I wrinkled my nose and withdrew my hand just as she answered, "Yes."

"Hand back on her arm, please, Miss Stackhouse." I complied after a moment's hesitation. So icky. "Do you do drugs of any sort?"

Different kinds of drugs filtered through her mind; pill bottles being twisted open, flashes of her hands reaching for a joint, a lit match descending towards a pipe.

"Yes."

"Have you ingested any Vampire blood, or blood of any sort?" Her mind went haywire; she didn't know the answer. Humorously, she was able to think briefly of Anne Rice books. I snorted in amusement. Eric rose an eyebrow at me in question.

"Oh, she has no idea what you're talking about. She's thinking about _Interview with the Vampire_." He smirked back. Our gazes were locked, and I realized we'd just shared amusement over something. We'd had a _moment._ I looked away quickly and took my hand off of Maudette's arm.

"She has no idea. She's not your culprit." I stood from the couch while Eric stayed where he was, sitting on the coffee table.

"Maudette," He began, "You will not remember this conversation. You did not see me, or Sookie, you won't even remember someone knocking on the door."

"Okay," She replied benignly. Was that really it?

Eric rose from his seat, straightening his leather jacket. "Time to leave, Miss Stackhouse."

I followed him out of the door back to his flashy car, and just as I was buckling myself in, I heard the faintest buzzing sound. Eric reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled a cell phone out, barely glancing at it before answering.

"Northman."

He sat, listening, and I heard the sound of someone talking, but I couldn't make anything out. After a moment, his face hardened and he ended the call without another word. Eric sat there, glaring out of the windshield, not making a sound. It was very strange. I sat there, staring at him, afraid to say anything; I'm headstrong, but not suicidal. It didn't strike me as wise to push any buttons right now.

After a moment, he put the key in the ignition, and the car purred to life. I sat back, glancing at him worriedly from time to time, twisting my fingers in my lap. I wasn't scared, per se; maybe just cautious, a little bit on edge. He'd been mercurial from the get-go, his moods switching on and off like a switch, but this struck me as different. He seemed more than angry; he seemed livid, murderous. I had no idea what had ignited this in him, and I didn't want to ask.

I realized he was making his way to the highway, away from Bon Temps instead of deeper into it. I had assumed we'd go to Dawn's house, since she was in the same town as Maudette, who I had assumed was the strongest candidate for getting Jason involved in this whole mess. We were probably headed back to the warehouse, I reasoned; he had mentioned Pam was 'acquiring' Crystal Norris, so maybe her errand had gone sour. Or, I reasoned to myself, maybe it's completely unrelated. Maybe it was some other Vampire shit that had come up.

Part of me hoped it was the latter, so I could go back home and not deal with Eric's mood swings.

 _Temporary home,_ I mentally corrected myself.

But part of me also hoped it was the former; the quicker we got this whole mess over with, the better. Maybe once we'd gotten to the bottom of this blood-dealing ring, he wouldn't ask for my services for a while, and I could use that gap in time to secure my freedom.

I was ever an opportunist.

We were quiet the rest of the way; him, I assume, out of sheer anger, and I out of pure instinct. I even tried my best not to shift around too much, to avoid bringing his wrath down on me. I wasn't sure if he was the type to lash out and misdirect his anger, but I'd had too much experience with that crap to try and find out. Jason had used me as an outlet for most of my life—between his anger at losing our parents and Gran excommunicating Uncle Bartlett, Jason had a lot of negative emotions that he had no idea what to do with.

That's not to say he was a strictly terrible, evil person; yes, he was selfish, and immature, and he badly needed to get his head on straight. There was also the fact he'd sold me out so he could get his own ass out of trouble. But he was, at his core, not an _evil_ person. Just a flawed human being. Right?

I chewed my lip as I thought. Was I defending him too much? Blood was everything, right? Your family is your support system. You protect each other.

That brought me up short.

The only one in my family who had protected me was Gran. Daddy had done the best he could, but Jason got a lot of his less-than-pleasant traits from him. Daddy had been selfish, too, despite his love and concern; and Momma, of course, was always resentful of the love Daddy had for me. She also couldn't stop herself from thinking I was crazy, and wondering what was wrong with her to produce such a strange, unnatural child.

Uncle Bartlett had been a creepy old man—maybe he still was. We hadn't talked to him since I finally mustered up the courage to tell Gran all he'd done to me, and how much more he was always thinking of doing. The memories made my stomach roil, revulsion bubbling up inside of me. I fought down the urge to vomit.

Jason was, well, Jason. He was the entire reason I was here.

No, my family hadn't really protected me. The only person on Earth who had was Gran. I felt a little lightheaded at this revelation. Why was I still defending Jason? Why wasn't I angrier at him? It was really and truly his actions that had gotten me into this awful spot.

My inner turmoil was interrupted by the car stopping abruptly. I blinked and looked out the window, surprised to find us already back at the dreaded warehouse. It hadn't seemed like I'd been lost in thought for so long; obviously I had a lot of feelings to work through. They would have to wait, however, until the end of this sordid affair.

We climbed out wordlessly, the Sheriff and I, me trailing behind him as he stalked menacingly to the front door. I let tendrils of my mind drift out, searching for any minds. I felt several different voids, including one down in the basement. There were even more Were brain signatures, one of which was located next to the void downstairs. I assumed that was Pam and Crystal Norris. Judging by Eric's demeanor, I felt certain she was going to be the one we were looking for. I felt a small knot of anxiety settle in my stomach.

Eric pounded on the door, and the Were on the other side must have sensed how angry he was, because that door flew open in less than a second. The Sheriff brushed by him, making a beeline to the basement door with his long, denim-clad legs. I scurried after him.

As soon as the door opened, I heard snarls echoing up from the depths below us, followed by Pam cackling. I couldn't fathom what was so funny, but I doubted it was anything I wanted a part of. I shored up my nerves, certain I'd need all the willpower I could muster.

We reached the bottom quickly, Eric not wasting any time; he walked straight to where Crystal was chained to what looked like the same metal folding chair I'd sat in. She was snarling at Pam, but quickly changed her attention as Eric got into her face, fangs fully extended while he growled right back at her, only louder. I wasn't an expert on either supernatural creature, but the seething Vampire seemed like the scarier of the two.

"Sookie." He snapped between growls. "Take her hand." I went to comply, figuring it was better to just do as he said. Clearly something had triggered him, deep-down. Just as I was about to curl my fingers around hers, her gaze turned to me and she actually _snapped_ at me, her teeth clacking sharply together. I jerked back, startled.

"Don't fucking touch me, stupid bitch! I ain't done nothin' wrong!" Crystal was pulling against her bonds, struggling so hard the chair seemed in danger of toppling over. Quick as lightning, Eric's pale hand flashed across as her face as he slapped her across the face, before clamping her hands down at her sides with his own. I stared at him, shocked he'd hit a woman, although I supposed his violent tendencies shouldn't have surprised me at this point.

"Take her fucking arm." He snarled at me without breaking eye contact with Crystal.

I tentatively gripped her forearm, her still struggling—although less now that Eric was restraining her. He didn't even bother to glamour her—I couldn't get any clear thoughts from her, but it was obvious she was in control of herself.

"Where did you get the blood from?"

"Fuck you!" She yelled back, but I could see hazy images of a man, slight of stature, holding his bleeding wrist over a pitcher, letting it fill up with his own life force as a crowd of people looked on cheering and howling.

"WHO GAVE YOU THE FUCKING BLOOD?!" He yelled, leaning further into Crystal's face. The images kept coming; her drinking blood, people changing into animals—a strange mix of wolves and panthers, howls and screams piercing the air as they gulped down blood greedily. The man who had been filling the pitcher of blood looked on benevolently, as if he were an angel watching over them. Chants floated through the air between all the animalistic noises. It sounded like one word, probably the Vampire's name, but it was hard to make it out over the cacophony.

I sucked in a gulp of air, pulling myself out of her dark, snarled thoughts. Crystal was still struggling as I pushed myself away from her. The Sheriff was on me in a flash, grabbing my shoulders tight.

"What did you see?"

I swallowed thickly, trying to even out my breathing, stuttering over my words. "I-I saw a bunch of Weres. They were…drinking blood, and there-there was this Vampire…"I stopped, my hands shaking; the entire scene in her head had shaken me. I'd felt the carnal lust, the crazed tension flowing through the room. Maybe I had a little bit of a contact high; I'd never done drugs, so I had no idea if that was it. I felt shook up, unstable, so I just wrapped my hands around Eric's biceps and leaned into him, letting his blank void overtake me and calm me down.

After a while, I wasn't sure how long, I became aware of his hands rubbing my upper arms, soothing the small ache from him gripping them. I allowed myself to be comforted by it momentarily, before gathering myself and pushing away. I cleared my throat and took a deep breath.

It only took me a minute to relay the rest of what I'd seen in brief detail, but with every passing moment, Eric grew more and more furious—cold, calm fury.

"Did you get anything else aside from the crowd drinking blood? A clear face, a name, anything?"

I thought for a moment, before nodding. "They were chanting a name, over and over. I think it was…Russell?"


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I only own the plot.

Leave a review, please!

* * *

Previously:

 _It only took me a minute to relay the rest of what I'd seen in brief detail, but with every passing moment, Eric grew more and more furious—cold, calm fury._

 _"Did you get anything else aside from the crowd drinking blood? A clear face, a name, anything?"_

 _I thought for a moment, before nodding. "They were chanting a name, over and over. I think it was…Russell?"_

* * *

The name had barely left my mouth before Eric was whirling around, clamping his hand around Crystal's throat, effectively stopping the snarls still emanating from her. She choked, still struggling against her bonds, hatred burning in her eyes. Eric's face was absolutely murderous; of all the scary moments I'd had with him, I hadn't seen that frightening expression on his face before. My instincts told me that I was missing something, a big piece of the puzzle, because this was no ordinary reaction. It had 'This Is Personal' written all over it.

I stepped back, wringing my hands, unsure of what to do next, until Eric spoke up.

"Miss Stackhouse," His voice was a deadly whisper, barely audible over the strangled sounds in Crystal's throat. "Put your hand back on her." I swallowed.

"I…I would really rather not." Delving into her mind had been taxing, to say the least; it was harder to dig through a Were brain than to keep human thoughts out, I had surmised after that little interlude. Besides, I wasn't too keen to be near the Sheriff when he looked the way he did. It was the first time he actually _looked_ like he was something completely other than human. I knew I was seeing what it really meant to be Vampire.

"DO IT NOW!" He yelled at me, fangs glinting, his glacial blue eyes never wavering from Crystal's twisted features. I did as he said, albeit hesitantly and standing as far from him as I physically could. "Crystal, are you taking blood from Russell Edgington?"

She couldn't answer, but she could still think; a simple 'yes' floated to her brain, although I could tell she was trying desperately _not_ to think about this man, Russell, feeding his blood to the Weres. I relayed that information to Eric, and he pressed on.

"Why? What is his purpose?"

Her answer this time wasn't so forthcoming; hazy, red-tinged images floated past. It wasn't cohesive, and I did my best to piece the information together.

"It 's hard to tell. I think…it looks like there's a bunch of Weres, getting amped up after drinking y'all's blood. Something like…a super army. It's like they're all soldiers under his control, but they're crazy strong." My eyebrows drew towards each other as I tried to dive deeper into her memories, searching for some explanation. I didn't know why a Vamp would want super-strong Weres, particularly since Eric had told me that the two species hated each other. Aside from that, and more importantly, I was curious why it enraged Eric so much; what had happened to make this a personal vendetta?

"I can't get anymore," I told him, sweat starting to prick at my hairline. My head was starting to hurt.

"Fine," He snarled, although to his credit, I wasn't so sure he was snarling _at me_ , per se; just in my direction. "Pam, take her upstairs. I'll spend some time alone with Miss Norris." He hissed her name out menacingly, and dread settled in the pit of my stomach. Somehow, I didn't think their 'alone time' would be enjoyable for the both of them.

I let Pam guide me upstairs and back to Eric's office. I sat heavily in the chair in front of it, tilting my head back and closing my eyes. I let my shields fall completely, and latched onto the void of Pam's brain. I noticed immediately a difference in…texture, almost, between her and Eric's brain. It wasn't a bad different, just weird. When my mind was simply open, there wasn't a difference, but when I actively sunk into their blankness, the feel was much different. Pam's felt almost like water—if water could be thick and dark. It made me feel buoyant, while at the same time still feeling dangerous; Eric's was like metal that had been sitting in the sun. It was smooth, strong, and warm. Interesting. I'd have to double check when I met another vampire and wasn't so mentally exhausted, but I assumed all Vamp brains would feel different to me.

 _It would be nice to meet another telepath, then we could compare notes._ I smirked a little, amused by myself. I was content to sit in silence until Eric had concluded his business, but Pam had other ideas.

"So," She drawled, and I cracked an eye to peek at her, "You haven't asked any questions that we usually get asked by the few who know we exist. You're not curious about anything?" Her eyebrow lifted; Pam and Eric may not have been blood-related, but she certainly could have inherited the eyebrow-raising shit from him.

"Do you really care if I'm curious or not?" I shot back.

"No." She answered immediately in her usual bored tone. "But he could be down there a while, and I don't want to stand here twiddling my thumbs while I keep you guarded." I 'hmm'ed in response, thinking.

"Are there any parameters of things you won't answer?"

Pam cocked her head at me. "Anything personal to Eric. Other than that, have at it, princess."

I thought for a few moments. I figured 'Why is this so personal for Eric?' definitely fit into that category; I was sure I'd find out at some point. I decided on other questions.

"How old is Eric?"

"He isn't completely sure. He and Godric put him at around one thousand years old; he was a Viking when he was human."

 _Jesus Christ._ One thousand years old. A millennium. He must have seen some really terrific stuff. Gran would just love to pick his brain, I bet. It boggled my mind, thinking he'd been around that long; then I realized, he hadn't just _been around_ ; he'd _survived_ that long. If the past few days were an indicator of how his entire life had been, that was certainly a huge feat. _Jesus_.

I felt stupid, suddenly, for underestimating him as often as I had. He was clearly very clever, with more than a little instinct for self-preservation. I would really have to be on my game if I wanted to outwit him.

"So, he was a real Viking? Like, raping and pillaging and longboats with dragons on the prow?"

Pam's face went cold instantly. "Several things, Miss Stackhouse. First, Eric has never taken a woman against her will, and I doubt he'd ever need to anyway. Vikings were honorable people, and Eric was especially committed to that particular virtue. I would suggest not saying that in his presence, ever, unless you wanted a world of hurt brought down on you.

"Second, Viking was more of a verb than anything. His people went Viking, that wasn't their proper name. He's very touchy about that." I nodded, properly chastised. I thought for another few minutes, before deciding on another question.

"Who's Godric?"

Pam didn't even bother to open her mouth, she just looked past me as I heard Eric's voice reply. "Godric is my maker." I turned to look at him and was slightly horrified to see blood splattered on him. My stomach clenched at the implications, and my horror must have shown on my face, because he lifted one brow— _like father, like daughter_ , I thought absently. "Don't worry, sweetheart, dear Crystal is doing just fine. She's just a little roughed up.

"Pam, Miss Norris will be guarded by our Weres during the day. I spoke with the Packmaster, and he assured me they had no knowledge of what Edgington is doing. She will be safe for the day. I will contact Godric tonight; we need a plan.

"For now, I'll be escorting Miss Stackhouse here back to her new home," I scowled at him, "The rest of the night is yours. Miss Stackhouse, follow me."

I huffed, but rose from my chair anyway, waving briefly at Pam, which she ignored except for a one-sided smirk, and followed him back into his car. He was revving the engine and out of the parking lot in mere moments.

I had thought the ride would be quiet, but a few minutes of tense silence in, Eric surprised me. "When I gave you my blood," He began, "And left you to your _human moment_ , you felt many things. At the forefront was repulsion. Why?"

I stiffened. This was not something I wanted to talk about with him at all. Not now, not ever. I hedged around the question. "Well, drinking blood is gross."

He growled. "You're not telling me the truth—at least not the whole truth."

"Why do you even want to know?" I was genuinely curious why _he_ was curious. What, did he want to know my entire life story? Instead of answering right away, he pulled into a dimly lit parking lot. He shut the car off and turned to face me; I mirrored him.

"Miss Stackhouse," He said, caressing my name like a lover. I shivered; no one had ever spoken my name that way. I hadn't thought anyone ever would, to be honest. It was a little thrilling, but I reminded myself quickly where I was and who I was with. "I am riding the aftereffects of severe bloodlust. I had enough blood stocked at the warehouse to keep me from ravaging you the moment I saw you, but," He stroked my hair back from my face, cupping my jaw, "You smell… _so fucking sweet_. I need to calm down before I fuck you right out of those clothes you're wearing, so I suggest you answer me."

 _Okay then._ I wish I could say I was offended by him saying those things; after all, a proper lady didn't entertain those notions, certainly not with their kidnapper. But, I reasoned, Pam had gotten pretty offended when I unintentionally accused the Sheriff of being a rapist, so I doubted he'd do anything I didn't want him to.

The problem, I admitted to myself, was that he was insanely good-looking. He was a beautiful man, and he practically oozed sex appeal. The notion that he would ' _fuck me right out of those clothes'_ made my lady bits clench, and to my embarrassment, I could feel myself getting a little wet.

 _It's not because it's_ him,I told myself, _it's because it's the first time anyone's ever been so up-front about wanting that with me. It's just about feeling desired. You don't get aroused by your abductor, Sookie._ Through with my self-chastising, I swallowed, trying to even out my heart. I wondered if he could hear it racing.

His eyes grew darker, his lids lowering slightly as he regarded me.

"Maybe you'd like that." His thumb traced my lower lip, cool to the touch, his other fingers holding me in place, gentle yet firm. I realized belatedly he could feel my response to his dirty talk and flushed. His fangs ran down fully with a small 'click'. "Maybe you want me to fuck you. You'd cum harder for me than you've cum for anyone; you would be begging me to take you, over and over, until the dawn called me away from you. And when I rose the next night, you'd be eager and wet for me. Is that what you want?"

I had been caught in his gaze, embarrassed by his frankness, fighting the heat that reddened my cheeks and the pulsing I could feel between my legs. It was tantalizing, the way he was so honest with what he wanted; and, boy, did he have a way with words. If he wasn't such a murderous jackass, I'd have been ready to hop into bed with him. As it was, however, I was able to bring myself out of my lusty haze; I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Absolutely not. I'm a lady, Mr. Northman, and I expect to be treated as such." I scooched as far away from him as possible, right against the door. He switched gears instantly, throwing his head back and laughing, deep and full. At least my rejection of his advances amused him. He turned the car back on, navigating back to the street.

"Answer the question, then."

I was confused for a moment, until I remembered what he'd asked. _Oh, right, the blood and all._ I squirmed a little in my seat, debating on if I was willing to go there, when inspiration struck. I had been more than willing to manipulate sympathy out of Alcide; maybe I could get some from the Sheriff. It wouldn't hurt, I decided, to try and finagle some emotional wiggle room; he would be able to sense I was telling the truth, too, which was a bonus. Maybe I should have felt guilty about being willing to use my own psychological wounds for such manipulative purposes, but I was nothing if not stubborn, and I hadn't yet accepted a life of captivity.

I cleared my throat and mentally bolstered myself, ready to launch into the sordid tale. Being willing to share it didn't mean it hurt any less.

It only took a few minutes to describe to him the violation I'd felt as a child when my funny uncle had began molesting me, compounded with being able to hear his disgusting thoughts. I tried to keep myself as separate from it as possible, but I couldn't help the tensing of muscles in my hands and belly as I stared the horrific details. I told him how I'd heard it in his head first, before he came after me the first time; how it had taken me a long time to finally tell Gran, who had run him off, threatening to kill Uncle Bartlett the next time he came 'round us. He listened quietly as I laid it all out, the pain, the guilt, the ensuing anger.

"I know the difference between molestation and slipping me blood; I know it's not the same. But it was still something done to me that I didn't consent to, didn't want. It just…it's a violation of my body." I swallowed the lump in my throat, grateful I at least hadn't cried during my tale. I _did_ feel less burdened; I'd never shared the full tale with anyone, and although my heart felt raw, it felt like a _good_ kind of raw.

We had pulled into the driveway of the safe house at this point, and Eric merely sat, staring out of the windshield, his brow furrowed. I looked down at my lap, my fingers twisting again nervously. I was almost afraid he would tell me I deserved it, or think I was disgusting and ruined, but he didn't. Instead, he started telling me about his family.

His human family.

"I was what today's society would call a Viking, although they misuse the term." I smirked to myself, remembering Pam saying roughly the same thing. "My father was a chieftain, a sort of king; I was his only living son, so I was to inherit the village if I proved worthy. I did have one sibling that hadn't yet succumbed to disease, an infant girl born to my mother.

"My father and I butted heads, as you would say; He wanted me to marry, to settle down and take his place. He was getting on in his years, though by today's standards, he would have been considered middle-aged. I'd put him in his forties, perhaps, at the time of his death. Mother was younger, although even in this century, women are cautioned against having babies that old. Late thirties, I'd say she was."

I was silent, listening to him, absorbing everything. This was the least eloquent he had ever been in front of me; but I could hear the rawness in his voice. A thousand plus years later, and I could tell it still pained him, this dark thing he was sharing with me.

"One night, while I was off doing what my father hated most—fucking the servant girls—my family's longhouse was raided by a pack of wolves. It wasn't until later that I realized what they were, those beasts that tore my family apart: Werewolves. They had massacred my family, leaving the rest of the village untouched. I found them, as my Father lay dying, his crown stolen, my mother and baby sister already cold in pools of their own blood." He was seething at this point, I could tell; his fingers were nearly crushing his steering wheel, his face a tight mask of anger and pain.

"Father told me what he saw; He told me everything. I didn't find out until later, when Godric and I began hunting them down, that the Werewolves had been fed a steady diet of Vampire blood. They are strong on their own, but they turn into crazed beasts once they're addicted." He fell silent for a moment. The space between us was thick with tension.

"Is it likely that this is the same person? Surely more than one Vampire in history has gotten himself a souped-up Werewolf army." I inquired timidly.

He shook his head. "Very doubtful. The blood is sacred; very few of us would share it this way, especially with mange-ridden mutts. Edgington is also well over three thousand years old"—I gaped at him; I could barely imagine Eric's thousand years, much less three times that—"So he would have been alive. I've never met him, otherwise I might have recognized him. Although there is some merit to this being too much of a coincidence."

I kept staring at him, waiting to see what else he would reveal. Disappointingly, he seemed to realize he had spilled his guts to unwilling captive and I could almost see Eric pulling himself back into his usual persona. I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit disappointed; it was…nice to see the Vampire Sheriff humanized a little bit.

"Go inside, Miss Stackhouse. We are done for the night." I nodded and exited the car without saying a word.

Later, as I was laying in bed, trying to entice sleep to come to me, I began to detangle all the messy emotions today had stirred inside me.

Sharing with Eric what Uncle Bartlett had done to me, what he had wanted to do to me, had been simultaneously painful and yet freeing. Once the ordeal was over, after Gran had chased him off with her shotgun, we hadn't spoken of it much, and I had done my best to repress the memories. I had intended to make Eric feel more sympathetic towards me, make him malleable; but instead I just felt lighter, and begrudgingly grateful he'd been willing to listen and share my burden.

There was also the matter of him reciprocating. He was obviously more than just a bloodthirsty killer, despite my wanting to believe that's all he was at his core. He still had some humanity in him, under all that bluster, I was sure.

I didn't think he was trying to humanize himself to me, but I decided not to rule that out. I'd learned my lesson in underestimating him. But my gut told me that his confession stemmed from several places, and the biggest one was probably guilt.

Pam had told me he took great offense to being likened to a rapist; I think he felt _bad_ about forcing his blood into me. Maybe not so much that he had to do it, more that it stirred those emotions in me. I think of all the things Eric didn't mind being seen as, a rapist was definitely not in that category.

It probably was also from needing to impress upon me the seriousness of the situation, and why he'd reacted so violently. I shuddered, burrowing further under the blankets, remembering the look on his face as he glared at Crystal. _That_ was terrifying.

All in all, the day had been exhausting, emotionally liberating, and _long_. In fact, I had barely recapped everything in my head when my eyes snapped back open.

 _Did Bobby bring my throw blanket?_

I hadn't bothered to look for it; in fact, I'd forgotten all about the little errand I'd sent Eric's dayman on. I scrambled out of bed and went in search of it.

I checked the living room first, slightly disappointed to see there was no blanket draped over the back of the couch. I went to inspect the kitchen, and sure enough, there was a bag on the island. I opened it up, and although I disliked Bobby, I had to admit he'd done an amazing job.

I pulled out a luxurious cashmere blanket woven in sapphire and icy blue; it was absolutely gorgeous, soft and vibrant.

 _When I leave, this is coming with me,_ I decided. I hugged it to my body as I padded to the living room and arranged it artfully over the back of the couch. Satisfied with my handiwork, feeling less alienated in this strange world I'd been thrust into, I went back to bed and slept.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I own only the plot.

A/N: No Eric this chapter, but I might be able to crank out the next chapter sooner if I get enough reviews...hm...

* * *

Previously:

 _Did Bobby bring my throw blanket?_

 _I hadn't bothered to look for it; in fact, I'd forgotten all about the little errand I'd sent Eric's dayman on. I scrambled out of bed and went in search of it._

 _I checked the living room first, slightly disappointed to see there was no blanket draped over the back of the couch. I went to inspect the kitchen, and sure enough, there was a bag on the island. I opened it up, and although I disliked Bobby, I had to admit he'd done an amazing job._

 _I pulled out a luxurious cashmere blanket woven in sapphire and icy blue; it was absolutely gorgeous, soft and vibrant._

 _When I leave, this is coming with me, I decided. I hugged it to my body as I padded to the living room and arranged it artfully over the back of the couch. Satisfied with my handiwork, feeling less alienated in this strange world I'd been thrust into, I went back to bed and slept._

* * *

I woke up late the next day, despite going to sleep earlier than I had expected to. Wading through Crystal's mind must have taken a bigger toll on me than I'd thought; before this whole Vampire fiasco, I'd never actively used my gift this much. If I ever met another telepath, we'd need to swap notes. I smirked at that thought, stretching and yawning. I let my mental shields fall, testing the area out. I could hear Alcide in the living room, the red haze of his thoughts focused on _The Price Is Right_.

 _Time to get up_ , I told myself. _But not before a shower._ Bringing my mental shields back up, I rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

Several minutes later, I was twisting my damp hair up into a bun on top of my head and padding towards the living room. It was only polite to say hello to my Werewolf guard before I did anything else. He looked up as I walked in, a grin stretching across his face.

"Mornin', Sook," He said. More guilt assuaged me when I felt the budding attraction in his mind. I was happy that he hadn't been replaced, as Eric had threatened, not just because I planned to use his sympathy to my advantage, but also for his company. However, that didn't mean I wanted to hurt his feelings. He was attractive, but not really my type.

 _Not that I've ever had to develop a type._ I came out of my quick reverie as I smiled back at him and returned his greeting.

"How are you today, Alcide?" I asked pleasantly.

"Oh, just fine. I was gonna go out on patrol here shortly before I dug up some lunch. How was everything after I left? Northman didn't look too pleased." I caught a bit of satisfaction in his tone, although I didn't care to dig too deep into that.

"He was in a real state, I'll tell ya. He almost seemed _jealou_ s. He couldn't seem to decide between calling me a tramp and telling me how good I smell. Eric's a real piece of work." I groused, plopping onto the couch next to him. Alcide's eyebrows rose at the end of my mini-rant.

"You on a first name basis with him now?" I gaped at Alcide. Now that he mentioned it, I _had_ been referring to the Sheriff mostly by his first name, even in my head. I thought back and couldn't, for the life of me, think of when that had happened. Or, more importantly, why. I just shrugged, not having an answer to give him. Alcide waited a few moments before pressing on. "Well, you do smell real nice. Much better than most humans."

I shrugged again. "I've never used high-end shower products, so I couldn't tell you why that is. I can't imagine Suave smelling that good." Before I'd even finished talking, he was shaking his head.

"It's not your shampoo that smells so good. It's just your natural scent. You got anything in your family 'sides human?" I felt a little bit of pride at the knowledge I just smelled nice naturally. It wasn't anything I could really put on a resume, but it did make a girl feel better about herself. I wondered what I smelled like to regular humans.

"Not that I know of. We can trace our line back pretty far, and as far as I know, we're just regular old people." Alcide made a grunt of acknowledgement.

"Why'd he call you a tramp?"

I snorted and rolled my eyes. "He was just mad we were getting along, I think. He said it was because I shouldn't be friendly with my guard, but I don't think he was being completely honest about it. Maybe he was just being a dick to be a dick, you know?"

He looked contemplative for a moment. "He was probably just being territorial. Vamps are pretty big on _'What's mine is mine'._ I'd put it down to being jealous. Have you…uh…let him feed from you?"

I wrinkled my nose at him. "God, no. Why in the world would I do that?"

"Just curious. You bein' his…food…might make him a little more protective." I could hear the hesitancy in his tone.

"What's feeding got to do with him being protective? I don't really see the connection."

Alcide's face flushed before he answered. "When a Vamp feeds, they usually have sex, too. Their term is 'feed and fuck', 'cause it's done with the same person usually."

I could feel my face flushing, too. "What's that got to do with me? He won't be drinkin' anything of mine!"

He fidgeted uncomfortably. "I just figured…well, he's a good lookin' guy, objectively, and you're a real looker yourself. Usually that, uh, well…I don't know, I just thought he'd have convinced you." My cheeks were burning with more than just embarrassment; now I had anger heaped on top of that.

"You listen to me, Mr. Herveaux," I started, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. "Neither his fangs nor his man parts will be penetrating _me_ , so you get that nastiness out of your head."

He had the decency to look sheepish. "Sorry, Sook. I was just…I don't know what made me ask that. I don't think you're trampy." I nodded, satisfied with his apology. He changed the subject after a beat, to one I was surprised he hadn't brought up before. "What are you being held for, anyway?"

I chewed my lip, trying to decide how much to tell him. I hadn't told him I could read minds, and I didn't think it was wise to let him know that little fact so soon. It had gotten me into enough trouble already. "My brother was apparently addicted to Vampire blood. He drained one, Eric—Mr. Northman tracked him down, Jason led him to me, and the rest is history."

I was being deliberately vague, hoping Alcide wouldn't ask why the trade-off had been allowed. No such luck, of course. "So what makes you more special than your brother?"

I decided to go with humor rather than the _actual_ answer. "Maybe it's just 'cause I smell so good." I stood up before he could combat the statement. "I'm gonna start fixing some lunch. You want anything?" Thankfully, he took the hint and backed off.

"Sure, whatever you make is fine with me. I'm gonna go do my patrol real quick, if you don't mind." I nodded, moving to the kitchen. It wasn't quite noon yet, but I had skipped breakfast and had an early dinner the night before; I was starving, but breakfast sounded perfect.

I set to boiling some tea bags before I fried half a pack of bacon and several eggs—Alcide's appetite was _very_ healthy—before mixing up some pancake batter. I'd just flipped the first pancake out of the pan when he entered the kitchen.

"Smells good in here," He said, smiling as he took his seat at the island. "You want any help?"

I nodded at the pot with the teabags in it. "You know how to make sweet tea?"

"Of course. I'm from the south, too," He teased.

I laughed. "If you can get that done, I'd appreciate it." Soon enough we were tucking into our late brunch, enjoying each other's company. He told me some anecdotes of pack life, explained a little bit more about Vampires—apparently both species were weak to silver, although Vamps were more susceptible to the metal, and Vamps hated the smell of garlic—and I told him a little bit about growing up. I didn't open up to him in the way I had with Eric the night before, but it was still nice to talk to someone and not be bombarded by their thoughts constantly.

The day was passing without incident, until Alcide went to do his pre-dinner patrol. I perked up when he mentioned it, feeling comfortable enough with him to finally ask if I could watch him shift. He quirked an eyebrow at me, and I caught a flash of him thinking I wanted to sneak a peek. I flushed when I remembered him saying he had to do it nude.

"I'm not trying to make a pass at you, perv!" I swatted his arm indignantly. He laughed.

"Fine by me. Just stay right inside the door, the Sheriff don't want you seen outside." I huffed.

"Just let me know when you're about to shift, I'm gonna cover my eyes while you undress." We got to the back door, the kind that slides open, and I placed a hand on my eyes once he started disrobing.

"Alright, you can look." I opened my eyes and I caught barely a glance of normal, naked man before his entire body started to ripple, fur growing everywhere and his bones rustling. It was truly the most surreal thing I'd witnessed in my entire life, including all I'd been subjected to the last few days. I watched, fascinated, until there was just a normal-looking brown wolf standing on all fours where Alcide had been.

He walked back to me, and I instinctively put my hand out for him to sniff. I swear he wolf-chuckled at me, and I blushed before just putting my hand on top of his head and scratching between his ears. I had my mind open, confirming I couldn't hear him, and the physical contact did nothing to help that. Apparently I couldn't listen in on Weres in their animal forms.

"You're a real pretty wolf, Alcide," I praised him, still scratching. A low growl rumbled in his chest, pleased. I pulled my hand away. "You go do your patrol. I'm gonna go get dinner started." He barked at me in response before turning and loping away. The safe house wasn't surrounded by woods, exactly, but a good amount of vegetation was growing. The neighbors were a little bit away from us, still visible but far enough away to give the house it's privacy. If I weren't here against my will, this would be a good area for me to live. I either couldn't hear the inhabitants or the houses were vacant.

I sighed, turning back into the house. It still twisted up my stomach to not attempt an escape, especially when I was alone, but I still didn't have a solid plan to get away or, more importantly, to _stay away_.

Alcide was gone long enough for me to season some chicken breast, get it in the oven, and start on some biscuits.

"All quiet on the western front?"

He laughed. "Nothing to report. How's dinner comin'?"

"Chicken breast, biscuits, and I'm gonna steam some green beans here soon. For someone who doesn't eat, Eric sure stocked this kitchen pretty well."

"He probably had his dayman do it." He shrugged. "They usually do all the menial tasks and I can't imagine Northman wandering 'round a Wal-Mart with a buggy." I laughed at the image.

"How long are you staying tonight?" I asked, arranging the cut-up biscuit dough on a cookie sheet. "Just til Eric gets here?"

I could feel surprise color his brain. "As far as I know, he ain't comin' tonight. I'm heading out an hour past sunset, to give your Vampire guard time to rise and make it here. Northman told me they wouldn't be coming in, just keeping watch outside."

That brought me up short. I thought back and realized that Eric hadn't said he'd be by. I had just kind of assumed we'd have more investigating to do together. My heart clenched in explicably, my throat going dry.

 _It's just because you don't want to be alone,_ I told myself. I cleared my throat.

"You'll be back tomorrow, though?"

"Sure thing. Until further notice, this is my life."

I rose my eyebrows as I turned to face him. "What about your day job? I'm sure you got bills."

He shrugged in response. "I own part of the company, Dad owns the rest. I'm working off his debt, so he won't deny me my paycheck."

I placed the baking sheet holding the uncooked biscuits in the oven, next to the cooking chicken breast. Thankfully they cooked at the same temperature, just with different times. "Why not just pay it off with money, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Northman has more than enough money. It's favors he likes to hoard." I nodded, seeing the sense in that.

We spent the rest of the time in companionable silence, me finishing up dinner, him watching me. I was starting to get uncomfortable with my plan to sway him to my side; he was genuinely fond of me at this point, to the point he had an actual crush. I certainly liked him, but he was firmly in the friend-zone, as far as I was concerned. I made us both plates in silence, smiling at him as I set his food in front of him. He thanked me and dug in.

I stayed lost in thought as we ate, trying to figure out my confusing emotions. They were all in a tangle, twisting and turning. Part of it, I knew, was the guilt of manipulating Alcide. It didn't take much internal debate to decide to give up on that avenue; it was a long shot to begin with, and I just couldn't stomach the thought of leading him on. He was developing a full-on case of puppy love, no pun intended. As much as I was enjoying that feeling (it had rarely, if ever, happened before), it just felt wrong down to my bones.

I was loath to let any opportunity pass me by, but I knew I didn't really have a choice, if I wanted to be able to live with myself. And really, _living with myself_ was the main goal.

I was too angry, still, to be able to consider my thoughts on Jason—dirty, rotten backstabber that he was—so I mentally groaned and tackled the biggest, most complicated feeling: Why I was disappointed that Eric wouldn't be by.

Part of it might have been Stockholm Syndrome, but somehow I didn't really think so. There hadn't really been enough time for it to set in, and despite myself, I did think that if we had met under other circumstances I would have taken a shine to him pretty quickly. Aside from his beautifully striking features, he was sarcastically funny, a trait I could appreciate. I was still sure he felt guilty for how he had made me feel with the whole blood shenanigan, which really did mean a lot. Having someone care for me, for what they've done to upset me, was foreign to me. I found that had endeared him to me, albeit reluctantly.

Plus, he was completely silent to me. Pam was, too, but the silence of his void was so…warm. Soothing. Sinking into his brain wasn't soft and cushy, but it was strong. I could almost imagine my tired brain resting against his own solid one, supported by it. I closed my eyes and sighed, imagining how it had felt to mentally relax in his presence.

Alcide cleared his throat, and my eyes popped open, bringing me back into reality.

What the hell was I thinking? He was a kidnapping monster. I was here against my will. He'd probably killed more people than I could even count! It's just 'cause he was cute that I was even thinking about this.

Right?

Right.

Right...


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

A/N: If you'e not familiar with eggs-in-a-basket, it's where you cut the middle of a piece of bread out and fry it in a pan with an egg in the hole. It is delicious. Also, sorry for the sporadic updates. I write when I am able, as I do have a pretty busy life.

Please review! They make my day!

* * *

Previously:

 _What the hell was I thinking? He was a kidnapping monster. I was here against my will. He'd probably killed more people than I could even count! It's just 'cause he was cute that I was even thinking about this._

 _Right?_

 _Right._

 _Right..._

* * *

I woke up the next morning at a normal, human time, as if I hadn't spent the last half-a-week keeping Vampire hours (literally). Alcide had left after sunset, and I hadn't seen hide nor hair—or fang, as it were—of my night guard. I could feel a void out there, but I was too busy moping to truly care.

I spent a few hours feeling lonely, confused, and all around sorry for myself before I decided to just go to bed. It wasn't like I had anything better to do, really. My last thought that night had been how miserable life would be, if this was what Eric had in mind.

And so, with light streaming in through my window, I decided to haul my butt out of bed. I was burnin' daylight, and I had a whole lot of nothing to get done. The thought made my mood plummet even more.

 _Come on, Sook,_ I chastised myself, _You can't be a Debbie Downer. At least Alcide is here to keep you company._

Cheered at the thought of decent conversation, I went to greet my daytime companion, only to find a woman in my living room.

 _Not_ _ **my**_ _living room, just_ _ **the**_ _living room,_ I savagely corrected myself, trying to keep the bewilderment off of my face.

"Um, hello?" She hadn't said anything, just glared at me through hooded eyes, her too-wide mouth twisted downwards.

"Hi." She responded curtly, the tendons of her stringy neck sticking out. I was taken aback at her sheer bitchiness; I could feel it rolling off of her in waves. I reached out mentally, trying to get a read on just what her fucking deal was, and found her to have the brain signature I associated with 'Two-Natured Folk', a term Alcide had taught me the night before.

"I'm Sookie," I said brightly, figuring you could catch more flies with honey. Hey, maybe she could actually turn into a fly! Then I could swat that bad attitude right out of her.

"I know." Jesus Christ. What was her problem?

"Care to tell me your name?" I could feel my polite, albeit confused, smile starting to turn into the crazed, strained one that always appeared when I heard someone thinking unsavory thoughts about me.

"Debbie." _Debbie's_ arms were crossed defiantly now; clearly, she wasn't happy to be here.

 _Talk about a Debbie Downer_ , I thought, amused briefly by my own pun.

"Is Alcide not gonna be here today?"

"No," She snapped, "He's needed at a site today. I'm his replacement." Oh my god. What an absolute bitch. I rolled my eyes, through with trying to be nice. She _obviously_ wasn't having it. Deciding to make breakfast, I turned on my heel and headed to the kitchen.

My mood stayed sour as I made my favorite childhood breakfast, eggs-in-a-basket, with a side of cut fruit. Today was just going to be _one of those days_ , I figured. Between the disappointment that I hadn't seen Eric last night, the confusion at why I was disappointed, the rude Werewolf I'd have to spend the day with, and the prospect of being bored for the foreseeable future, I was in a real state. There was no guarantee I'd be able to muster any Southern grace today.

That theory was tested when I turned from the stove to sit at my usual spot at the island with my solitary plate (I hadn't bothered to make breakfast for Miss Debbie, in a fit of pettiness). My new babysitter was glaring at me from the entryway of the kitchen, those scrawny arms still crossed; probably to keep whatever bit of soul she had left from escaping.

 _Be nice, Sookie. Maybe she's just having a bad day, too._

"You smell like Alcide."

"Um, okay? So?"

Her glower intensified. "He's been huggin' on you."

"Again, so?" I crossed my arms right back at her. I didn't think he had a girlfriend, as he hadn't so much as thought about her, but I guess if I dated someone like Miss Priss, I wouldn't tell anyone either.

"Me an' him got unfinished business. Just 'cause we ain't together right now don't mean we won't be," She ground out. Oh, jeez, a crazy ex-girlfriend. Of all the people I'm sure could have stood in for Alcide, why did the powers that be send this nut?

"…Right. Listen, I don't care if you're dating Alcide or not. He's a good guy, but I'm not interested."

Debbie sneered. "Right, you're more of a Vamp whore. I smell Northman's blood in you." _Slut_.

The last was just a thought tendril, and despite my trouble reading two-natured folk, I heard it loud and clear.

And it pissed me off.

Bracing my hands on the island, I sent her a glare of my own.

"You listen here, _Debbie_ , I'm no slut." The shock on her face made me feel smug as a bug, and I couldn't keep a smirk from forming. "Oh, yes, I can definitely hear you. What's more, I don't hold a torch for Alcide, but he's a grown man who can be friends with whoever the Hell he wants, including me. If you couldn't hold onto him, that's your own damn problem.

"I don't appreciate you coming into my house with your attitude. If I were you, I'd adjust it real quick, lest it gets you in trouble. I don't think the Sheriff would appreciate you riling up his telepath, do you?"

I admit that I was taking a shot in the dark by pulling rank; I had no idea if she knew I was a prisoner, or if I was important to Eric in any capacity, but if Alcide didn't know I was a captive, I was willing to bet this hussy didn't. It was distasteful, on top of that, to call myself _anything_ of Eric's, or even call this my house, but something I said in our little stand-off apparently got to her, because she stormed off into the living room, leaving me to my solitary breakfast.

Once I'd had my fill, I found the prospect of watching TV the rest of the day a glum one. Besides, I didn't relish the thought of being in the same room as Debbie Downer. However, I needed _something_ to kill the time. A glance around the kitchen had me grimacing at the crumbs and grit. Cleaning had always been something I could count on to help clear my head, and I hadn't done any real housekeeping since I'd gotten here. It would have to do, I decided.

I rooted around the cabinet under the sink and was pleased to find cleaning products; nothing like the arsenal Gran and I kept, but still more than I had truly expected Eric to keep. The mental image of him in yellow rubber gloves, scrubbing the grout in the bathroom had me giggling almost maniacally to myself.

The next few hours were spent cleaning anything that looked remotely dirty, dusty, or stained. I even unearthed some laundry detergent and got started on washing all the bed linens in the house—even in the spare bedrooms. Both showers were spotless, the sinks and mirrors were polished, and all the tile floors were scrubbed. There wasn't a vacuum anywhere in the house, much to my dismay, but I was satisfied that everything else in the house looked brand-spanking-new.

I had been able to ignore my house guest thus far; I'd been so deep in my own thoughts that none of her stray ones were able to infiltrate my mental shields. I lowered them to check on her, briefly, amused to find her concentrating heavily on a re-run of Cops and internally bitching about the strong scent of disinfectant. Good, let her be annoyed. I, myself, enjoyed the scent of a freshly cleaned home— _not a home, Sook, this is a house. There's a difference!—_ but a quick sniff of myself proved I was getting pretty ripe. I needed a shower.

 _Or a bath. I definitely need one to relax after all that hard work._ I frowned, despite looking forward to letting the hot water work the kinks from my muscles. Baths were my favorite thing to unwind from my actual job, though I saved them for particularly horrific days.

Thinking of work, though, made me wonder about Sam. I'd thought of him here and there during my days away, but he was honestly not foremost in my thoughts. Other things took precedence, obviously. I did wonder, though, if he was looking for me. Eric had mentioned they knew each other well enough that Sam would know Eric's scent (which was still just weird to think about), but maybe Sam went investigating to see where I went? Maybe he didn't think I'd run off in the middle of the night, and had gone to sniff around. Maybe he could smell Vamp blood in Jason and that would lead him to Eric.

Debbie had said she could smell Eric's blood in me, and I'd only been slipped a miniscule amount of it. Surely Sam, with his supernatural sniffer, would smell Vampire blood in Jason. That might lead him to Eric, and somehow lead him to me…

I sighed, realizing how many 'if's and 'maybe's that would require. Maybe everyone would really believe I'd left them behind. Eric was more clever than he was cocky, and he certainly was betting on people believing I'd abandoned what little family I had left. Hell, the whole town thought I was crazy, maybe crazy enough to take off into the night.

Damn Vampire.

Damn Jason.

 _If I ever see him again, I'm just gonna throttle him for getting me into this mess_.

Sighing, I ran the bath as hot as I could stand it and tried to let the water dissolve all my problems.

Later, as I dried myself off and applied lotion (unscented, but at least Eric had thought to have it stocked—or Pam, or the dayman, I didn't care who) I decided I was going to ask for some books to keep myself occupied. I had discovered that hot baths without a book weren't nearly as enjoying. I had nothing to keep my mind occupied, and besides, I didn't want my mind to rot from too much television.

I spent a little over an hour laying on the bed, making a list of genres I'd need Bobby the dayman to sift through for me, as well as some specific titles I wouldn't mind reading again. I didn't even feel bad about how much it would cost, on account of all the money I was missing out on by not showing up to work.

A grimace split my face as I thought about my meager bank account, both the savings and checking accounts. Thankfully, Gran had access to it, and it would be able to tide her over for a while. She didn't depend heavily on my income, but I still contributed as much as she'd let me to the bills and household expenses.

A lightbulb lit up in my head.

 _Maybe they'd see my untouched account and know I wasn't a runaway, I actually_ _ **was**_ _missing!_

A little bit of glee filled my heart at the thought, the first positive feeling I'd had all day. It was incredibly welcome, and I nurtured it like a coal, letting it warm me from the inside out. It was such a small thing to hope for, to hold on to, but I'd take whatever I could get at this point.

The ember was abruptly snuffed out later, when Debbie Downer herself sauntered into my bedroom, her mood as sour as it'd been all day.

"I'm leavin'."

I blinked. "Bye then."

"Your night guard will be here soon."

"Okay."

With one last glare, she turned on her heel and marched out. I snorted and shook my head. My mind stayed open, tracking her brain as she made left. Once she was outside of my range, however far that was, I got off the bed and went to the sliding back door. The day was getting on, but there was still a few hours of daylight left.

 _Why did she leave so early?_

This was suspicious. It had **TRAP!** written all over it. I didn't trust it.

However…

The daylight looked so warm. So inviting. Alcide had said Eric didn't want me seen, but Eric himself hadn't told me not to go outside, had he? I couldn't remember him saying anything to that effect. Surely he couldn't get pissed if I got some sun; besides, I'd be back inside before any Vampires were out and about. Smiling, I changed into some shorts and a tank top, made myself a quick sandwich with a side of fruit, and went outside to soak up the rays.

I'm sure the food had something to do with the immediate improvement of my mood, but after just a few minutes of being outside, I felt much better. The hot bath had loosened my muscles after the cleaning spree, but it felt like the sun was seeping into my pores; I swear I could feel it infusing into my bones, in my blood, burning out all the stress and unhappiness I'd carried with me all day.

Tanning had always been a vice of mine, and I didn't realize how much I had missed it in just a few short days. I felt like a whole new woman. Even after my _very_ late lunch was done, I couldn't bring myself to go back inside. In fact, I stayed outside until the sun went down, soaking up every last drop of sunshine. I even admired the stars a little bit before I finally decided to shut myself back in my prison.

I was surprised, however, to find Eric himself already sitting in my-no, _the_ —living room, his long, bare arms stretched across the back of the couch. Sweet Jesus, he had big biceps. I bet it was from swinging a sword around, I bet he had nice abs, too-

I was interrupted from my few moments of ogling by Eric himself suddenly in my personal space. His giant hands were gripping my hips, his nose shoved into my neck. I could feel him inhaling, his breaths deep and even. His exhales were cold, which was weird, but it's not like I had a lot of warm breath fanning across my skin during my lifetime, and despite myself I enjoyed the attention.

 _Not because it's him. It's just about being wanted_.

"You like this," He murmured into my throat, the movement of his lips making me shiver. My heart was beating faster than I was used to, and I wanted to deny it. But, I reasoned, he'd know if I was lying. Then he had to go and ruin it all by adding, "I knew you wouldn't be able to resist me."

My anger flared up, and one of my hands—both of which had been dangling uselessly by my sides up to this point—came up to smack him on the side of the head.

"You're a jerk!" Just because I _had_ enjoyed it didn't mean he had to point it out.

 _So rude._

I shoved away from him, taking a few steps back. "What's the big idea, anyway?"

He shrugged, a lazy grin across his face, those ivory fangs reaching past his bottom lip. "You've been in the sun today. Your natural scent is alluring, but soaked in the sunlight…I just want to bite you, fuck you, and rib myself all over you." He stalked a little bit closer, a rather sexy gleam in his glacial eyes. I took another few steps back.

"Hey, buster, you'll not be doing _any_ of that." _Even if it does sounds kind of hot. No, Sookie, bad girl!_

Instantly, Sexy Sheriff was gone, and Sheriff Northman was back.

"Of course. Only when you want it, sweetheart." I knew, _I knew_ , I shouldn't have taken that to heart. But after our last conversation, that slew of words might have melted my heart just a little bit. Just the acknowledgement that I didn't want him— _I didn't!_ —and he wouldn't do anything I didn't want, not anymore at least, made me less defiant.

It made me happy.

"Thank you." And I meant it. Eric nodded and switched topics.

"Where is your guard?"

"Oh, apparently Alcide had to go to work today so some woman, Debbie, took over. She left a few hours ago, though." I didn't bother to school my face into passivity; instead, I let my dislike for her filter through both my tone and my expression. His eyebrows rose.

"She left." Eric's voice was flatter than a fritter. That made me nervous.

"Uh, yeah, she did."

"You did not."

"Ah, no, I didn't. I _did_ spend the rest of the day outside, though, those last few hours, anyway. She said the night guard would be here later, but I don't know where she had to go-"

I knew I was rambling, but I couldn't seem to shut myself up. Thankfully, Eric was more than capable of interrupting.

"Why didn't you go? You could have made a run for it." One eyebrow was basically in his hair at this point, it had risen so high.

"Well, I mean, how far could I realistically get?" I felt a small twinge at this half-truth. Well, it was mostly truth. I decided against delving into why else I would stick around. Or why I felt less lonely, less despondent now. The two subjects were unrelated.

To his credit, Eric didn't press the issue. He stared at me for a few more moments, and I'd have given quite a bit to be able to read his mind.

Suddenly his whole face turned impassive, back to Sheriff mode. "We have someplace to be. The night will get cooler; I suggest you change into warmer clothing."

Was he concerned about my comfort? My heart lurched, but I ignored it. _It's just weird to have someone look out for my well-being_ , _even if it is just because I'm useful._ My lurching heart sank momentarily. Can't have the telepath too cold to read a mind, now, can we? I turned and headed to my _temporary_ bedroom to change into some jeans, a t-shirt, and a soft zip-up hoodie. A few minutes later, we were speeding away in his flashy sports car.

I spoke up, finally, tired of silence after a full day of it. "Where are we going?"

"We are going to the warehouse," Eric responded, "To discuss what we've learned through your gift. Pam will meet us there."

He was quiet for a moment, before adding, "And so is Godric. My Maker."


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I only own the plot.

A/N: Just a few things, before you go on to the story.

First: _Raring_ is a Swedish endearment; it's less common than älskling is, and more old fashioned, and it means sweetheart/dear one. My Eric calls Sookie sweetheart fairly often when he's being a jackass, and I just love the idea of him calling her sweetheart in a very heartfelt way. Plus, älskling is used so much, and I wanted to try something new.

Second: Some of you have expressed your frustration with Sookie not trying to escape. I'm not going to wax poetic every time she has an opportunity to make a run for it; I've written in detail her thought process on why it's a bad idea to attempt an escape without a detailed plan. Maybe I haven't written it clearly enough that she'd rather secure her release without having to look over her shoulder the rest of her life, but that's her general idea, to get herself free in a smart way that won't get her, or her loved ones, hunted down. Eric found her before, his blood is in her, and he can find her again. Aside from that, though, this story isn't about her being an independent, single Sookie. It's about making them fall in love, and that is what I'm going to write. Please be patient, I promise Eric isn't using her as a doormat, she doesn't have Stockholm Syndrome, he's not treating her like a dog. He's a Vampire and he needs room for character growth.

I apologize for the long rant, but hopefully this will appease some of you who aren't a huge fan of this Sookie. We will get there!

All of your reviews keep me inspired! Keep 'em coming!

* * *

 _Previously:_

 _"Why didn't you go? You could have made a run for it." One eyebrow was basically in his hair at this point, it had risen so high._

 _"Well, I mean, how far could I realistically get?" I felt a small twinge at this half-truth. Well, it was mostly truth. I decided against delving into why else I would stick around. Or why I felt less lonely, less despondent now. The two subjects were unrelated._

 _To his credit, Eric didn't press the issue. He stared at me for a few more moments, and I'd have given quite a bit to be able to read his mind._

 _Suddenly his whole face turned impassive, back to Sheriff mode. "We have someplace to be. The night will get cooler; I suggest you change into warmer clothing."_

 _Was he concerned about my comfort? My heart lurched, but I ignored it. It's just weird to have someone look out for my well-being, even if it is just because I'm useful. My lurching heart sank momentarily. Can't have the telepath too cold to read a mind, now, can we? I turned and headed to my temporary bedroom to change into some jeans, a t-shirt, and a soft zip-up hoodie. A few minutes later, we were speeding away in his flashy sports car._

 _I spoke up, finally, tired of silence after a full day of it. "Where are we going?"_

 _"We are going to the warehouse," Eric responded, "To discuss what we've learned through your gift. Pam will meet us there."_

 _He was quiet for a moment, before adding, "And so is Godric. My Maker."_

* * *

 _Godric, huh?_ I can't say I knew what to expect, but the Vampire standing in front if me was definitely not it. Pam and Eric seemed so much alike, I guess I just assumed this Godric would be a carbon copy of them. Or, since he came first, I guess _they_ would be carbon copies of _him_.

Instead, Godric was a smaller, very young looking Vampire; where Eric and Pam were tall and fair, Godric was slight and dark. He also exuded calm, and his chocolate eyes were old, incredibly ancient. Eric was old, too, but his eyes didn't betray that; the opposite was true for his Maker.

 _What a strange dichotomy_.

Eric and I had been more or less silent until we'd gotten to the office of the warehouse, where his Maker and his Child were waiting for us, all three generations in one spot.

 _Did that count as generations? Do Vampires care about that stuff?_ I made a mental note to ask later, when the time was more appropriate. Maybe one of them would give me a solid hour one night to fire off all of these inane questions.

Lost in my reverie, I almost didn't notice the curious look Godric himself was giving me until he spoke.

"Miss Stackhouse. You are my Child's telepath?"

I narrowed my eyes at him from my chair. He and Pam were flanking the Sheriff, like body guards. "Absolutely not. I am nothing to your Child but a prisoner."

He smiled softly, surprising me. "Yes, he's told me bit about that. Did he bother to explain to you the rules of our society?" I shook my head no, taking the time to cast a quick glare at Eric himself. "I see. Eric and I are Sheriffs of our own Areas; I oversee a portion of Texas. There are, however, monarchs of the states. Louisiana has a queen, and above her, there are other authorities. We police ourselves very diligently, Miss Stackhouse. I believe your brother committed a Blood Offense, yes?"

I shrugged. "I guess. But _I_ didn't."

Godric nodded. "I agree. You did not. This should not be your burden to bear. Your brother should not have been allowed to trade places with you." Eric whipped his head to his Maker, looking incredulous. I smirked. "Our blood is sacred, and it is in our nature to exact revenge when offenses have been made against our race, but retaliation should extend only to the perpetrator. However, as much as I disagree with my Child's decision, I respect and understand it. This is his Area, not mine."

I was fuming. What was the fucking point of telling me all of that? 'I wish I could help you, but, well, I just won't'? How sanctimonious.

 _Like Maker, like son,_ I thought, sourly. _Both of 'em are assholes._

"Come now, sweetheart, don't be so angry," the Sheriff said cheekily, leaning back in his leather chair. "You've had several days to come to grips with this already." My response was to give him the finger, not caring how childish it made me look. He just laughed.

"Godric has joined us here to talk about the situation with _Russell_." His entire demeanor changed as he spat out the name, like it left a bad taste in his mouth. "While I am certain this is the same Vampire that used wolves to murder my human family, my Maker needs more convincing. We are going to do some reconnaissance. The plan is quite simple, and all the more likely to succeed because of it.

"All Vampires get restless after being settled for too long; as it so happens, Godric and I have been in our Sheriff positions for quite some time now, and it isn't beyond the pale for us to be ready to seek new horizons. We are going to approach Russell and ask permission to move to his state, with a human as a gesture of good will."

"Hold on, buddy," I interrupted, "I hope you aren't expecting _me_ to be that human."

Eric's face hardened. "Of course not. You are too valuable." A brief flicker of warmth lit up my heart, like a candle in the dark, before logic snuffed it out quicker than a kid making a wish on a birthday cake. Of course I was _valuable._ I was _his telepath._

Whatever. As long as I wasn't being put at risk, I didn't care. Right? Right.

Eric gazed at me curiously for a moment, then continued. "The human will look around during the day, gleaning whatever information could be useful, and when we rise the next day, you will relay their thoughts to me and we will go from there.

"Any questions?"

I chewed my lip, thinking. "Why do you need permission to move to his state? Is he the monarch of Mississippi? Which, by the way, is just plain crazy."

"It is just the way it is done, Miss Stackhouse," Godric answered in his calm, soft voice. "Both having the monarchs, and needing permission to relocate."

I nodded that I understood. "Okay, so, we're all going to infiltrate the lair of a murderous Vampire with an army of crazy, blood-drinking Weres—the same crime I'm being held for, despite the fact I didn't even commit it-hope that a human can sneak past the aforementioned Weres to find some sort of random information that _might_ help you place this murderous Vampire at a crime over a thousand years old, and then we'll regroup and form another plan just as crazy as this one. Did I get all that right?"

Eric smirked. "Very good, Miss Stackhouse."

"Y'all are nuts."

Pam cackled, speaking for the first time in a while. "Life would be boring otherwise."

"Why not just…wait? And let him expose himself, instead of running off half-cocked? I mean, you _just_ found out he could be the killer two nights ago. This seems pretty hasty to me."

Eric's face closed off, all trace of mirth gone. "I have waited far too long to bring my family to justice. If he hasn't _exposed himself_ thus far, it's doubtful he ever will. Besides, Vampires don't value human life. He likely feels no guilt for his actions." Godric moved his ancient gaze to his Child, a mix of sadness and pity.

 _What's that about?_

I sighed. "Fine. When do we leave?"

Eric tapped one finger on his desk, staring at me. "Soon. We still have many details to iron out. The rest of tonight, we will be planning for every eventuality; I always have a backup plan, sweetheart, despite what you think." I lifted an eyebrow at him; I didn't really doubt his intelligence, but I still wanted him to _think_ that I did. "You won't be needed for the rest of the process. You may spend your time in the warehouse, but do not go outside. I have assigned your _friend_ Alcide to guard you for the remainder of the night. You may go."

I was actually excited about seeing Alcide, so much so I didn't even care he'd dismissed me in such a rude manner; after a crappy day, I just needed a friendly face. Besides, I wanted to ask him about his crazy ex-girlfriend. Eric didn't seem too happy, but whatever. He could go suck an egg for all I cared.

I nearly skipped from the room, not bothering to close the door behind me in a fit of childishness. I thought I heard Godric chuckle and the low rumble of Eric's growl, but I didn't care to eavesdrop on them. I lowered my shields and searched the warehouse, listening for Alcide. As luck would have it, he was by the front door.

 _Must have arrived after me and Eric did._

As soon as I was in view, Alcide's face cracked into a grin. "Hey there, Sook," He greeted me, standing to give me a hug. I returned it gratefully.

"Hey, Alcide." I plopped into the vacant chair at the card table next to him. "What 'cha doin'?"

He shrugged. "Just playin' some cards. Wanna join?" I nodded, he shuffled a deck of well-loved cards, and he dealt us out. "Ever played War?"

"Yup! Me and Jase used to play when we were kids." I was glad he'd chose a game that didn't involve a lot of thought; I didn't want to interrupt our conversation every few seconds with "Go fish" or "Hit me".

"So," I ventured, once we both had all our cards dealt. "You had to work today?"

Alcide grimaced; I could tell he already knew where this conversation was going. "Yeah. I didn't know they'd be sending Debbie to spend the day with you, not until she was already there. She's a little…"

"Insane?" I supplied helpfully. He barked a laugh.

"Yeah, that'd be a word for it. What'd she say?"

I filled him in on our brief interactions, him giving a deep sigh when I told him what Debbie had said about their 'unfinished business'.

"Debbie's pretty possessive. We've been off-and-on for a while, but the last time we split I told her it was for good. She…gets into some pretty bad stuff, sometimes." In his head, I got just the barest glimpse of Debbie drinking what looked like blood. My eyes widened, and I barely caught myself before I asked him about it.

 _She's a blood addict, too. Should I have him tell Eric? He'd want to know. Oh, hell, I never told him I'm a telepath. But, shit, I told Debbie!_ I hadn't realized, in the heat of the moment earlier in the kitchen, I'd given myself away. Damndamndamn. Should I tell Alcide? Debbie might tell him…but they were apparently on the outs, and I didn't feel comfortable with telling him just yet. Sure, he was different, too; but he had a pack to run with, an entire race of two-natured people to make him feel like he wasn't a freak. I was alone, possibly the only mind-reader on the planet. Besides, not a lot of people wanted to be friends with someone who could hear their every thought.

As selfish as it was to keep my secret from him, I honestly needed all the friends I could get right now. I decided to keep my mouth shut.

"Sook?" Alcide touched my shoulder gently, bringing me out of my thoughts. "You alright?"

Thinking quick, I decided to play it off. "Yeah, just, I know what it's like to be brought down by someone else's bad habits." I gave a weak smile, hoping he'd take the joke at face value and move on. Thankfully, he did, and we resumed our card game.

"You meet Eric's Maker, Godric?" Alcide asked.

"Yup," I answered, exaggerating the 'p'. "He seems alright. Much different than what I would've thought he'd be like. Maybe more…"

"Murderous?" Alcide supplied. I giggled and nodded. "He's an alright guy. More humane than most Vamps are, that's for sure."

"I wonder why that is, though. I mean, Pam is just like Eric, so it only stands to reason Eric would be just like Godric."

"Godric's been around a long time. Could be he's calmed down in his old age." I laughed. "Now, this ain't confirmed, but rumor has it he's over twice Eric's age. One of the Weres in the Dallas packs majored in archaeology, specializing in the Iron Age. She's met Godric, and recognized his tattoos. Said it was Gallic in origin, so he's probably around two thousand years or so."

"Jesus. I can't even imagine that." I stayed quiet a moment, ruminating over everything he'd said. "How come you know all that?"

"Sometimes the packs will have a big gatherin', when there's super-moons and such. Me and her had a fling, and we still keep in touch from time to time. She figured I'd be interested in the information, seeing as his Child owns my dad's debt."

We kept at our card game, not saying too much to each other, until I spoke up. "So if you had to work today, why are you here now? I thought a Vampire usually babysat me at night."

Alcide lifted his gaze from the cards to me. "Maybe he thought you could use the friendship."

I gave him a disparaging look. "Well, that's a flawed argument if I ever heard one. First, Eric said himself he wanted me to be lonely. Second, he doesn't really seem to like you."

He snorted. "He don't like me 'cause he's jealous we get along. I bet he just wishes he could spend as much time with you as I do."

"Whatever," I rolled my eyes, "He doesn't give a rat's ass about any of that."

"Yeah? So when he called me up and told me to come up here and keep you company, he really meant just keep you from runnin' off, huh?"

"Yup." I do admit that it made my insides feel squiggly at the prospect that Eric cared if I was lonely, not to mention him being jealous of Alcide for all our hugs and conversation, but I was still not letting myself think about why that would make me feel so warm.

"He likes you."

"He likes the way I smell. Even you said my scent is nice."

"I don't look at you like Eric does."

I sighed, exasperated. "Come on, Alcide, he looks at me like he wants to eat me." His eyebrows rose, a smirk playing on his lips. "Ugh. You know what I mean, not like…that. Besides, it hasn't even been a week."

Alcide shrugged. "Sometimes it don't even take that long."

I stared at him. "What the hell are you even talking about?"

He sighed. "Nothin', Sook. You're right, he probably just thinks you're a tasty snack, even if he ain't had a sip. Wanna play Slap Jack next?"

Reluctantly, I nodded, somehow both ready and unwilling to leave the conversation. It had certainly been a weird one. We played a slew of other card games, easing back into lighter conversation. My eyes got heavy at some point, and Alcide took mercy on me by showing me a cot kept in a side room for napping.

"Eric is okay with y'all catching some Z's on the job?" I mumbled sleepily, pulling the sheet back. He chuckled.

"There's always at least one guard awake here. Get some rest, Sook." I yawned and nodded, letting myself drift. I _had_ gotten up early this morning.

It felt like only seconds later that I heard voices near me; without moving, I let my mind cast out to feel who it was. I felt Eric's mind first, mentally snuggling against the solid warmth of his void, like a cat rubbing against it's owner. The other mind felt similar to Pam's—both put me in mind of dark water, but where hers was more sticky-feeling, this one was buoyant. I assumed it was Godric's void, and that was confirmed when his voice came closer.

"You truly intend to keep her?"

"Yes, Godric. You know our laws better than anyone."

"But, surely, her help in solving this mystery would be enough to exonerate her of her brother's sins?"

"No. The Queen would have to be notified, and I would have to explain why she deserved freedom. As it is, I've already told her the drainer was detained and is being kept as my blood bag."

"But you've not fed from her." Eric was silent, so Godric continued. "Your claim of caring not for humans is weaker every day, my son. I can feel it."

 _Of course it's weak,_ I thought sleepily, _He's trying to avenge his family's thousand-year-old murders. There's love in him somewhere._

I didn't hear Eric's reply; I was too tired to hold onto consciousness anymore, and I drifted off.

At some point, I felt myself being jostled, only this time I was annoyed enough to open my eyes. I was in my bed, Eric pulling my cover over me.

 _I must be dreaming_ , I smiled to myself _._

"Thank you," I mumbled, letting my eyes close. Eric's cool fingers brushed my hair back from my temple gently.

 _A sweet dream._

"Sleep, Sookie." He murmured close to my ear.

"Alcide says you're jealous." The fingers stroking my hair back paused, barely, before resuming.

"Yes," Eric breathed.

"You haven't drank my blood," I whispered. If this were real, I'd never have the temerity to say this to his face; I wouldn't have had the courage to admit I'd been ruminating over this particular topic, especially to myself.

"No, I haven't, _raring_."

"Someone else?" Dream Eric was silent, his fingers still smoothing my hair back. It felt incredibly good. Extended periods of physical contact were rare for me, even from Gran, and I basked in the feeling. "Alcide said…'feed and fuck'…"

He laughed softly, his fingers switching from brushing my hair back to gently rubbing across my cheek. "Are you jealous?"

"Sometimes, maybe." I admitted. It was safe, I figured, to tell him now. If Dream Sookie and Dream Eric had an honest conversation, I wouldn't feel the urge to do it when I was awake. Right?

"Don't be," He murmured, his thumb tracing my lip as I smiled. "There's been no one. Go to sleep."

"Eric."

"Sookie."

"There's love in you, somewhere."

His cool lips pressed to my temple, lingering for a moment before retreating. "Sleep, _raring_."

I sighed contentedly, and the dream faded away.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I own only the plot.

A/N: The book I mention, The Viking Spirit, is a real book and it is very good, incredibly informative. I recommend it if you're interested in history or mythology. I took the synopsis here word-for-word from the back of the book, as well as the two excerpts of chapter 6 I put in here.

So-and this is the last time I'm going to harp on this, I promise, and excuse me if I come off as rude-Sookie does not have Stockholm Syndrome. Please don't suggest I need to look up the definition, or post the definition itself in a guest review. I do my homework when I write, and I know how my story ends. You do not. If you would like to wait until the story is complete to read any more, please feel free to do so, and _then_ you can make a decision on if you think she's a victim of Stockholm Syndrome. Until then, please keep your criticism sans attitude. :)

Eric is also not abusing or intimidating Sookie, not is he switching tactics to gain her compliance. He's just changing, and she is too. That's the entire point of this story, that they change and gravitate towards each other. I'm also not following the original fairy tale, and very few renditions actually do. There are several out there where Beauty is an unwilling hostage, and grows to love her Beast in spite (or, yes, because) of that. If you don't like my portrayal, you are absolutely not obligated to read it. This is, above all, fanfiction.

With that said, please review, if it's a critique, I welcome them as long as they aren't rude. I hope you enjoy this chapter! And to whoever got word of my stories out there, thank you very much! I appreciate the "publicity".

One last thing: The book is called The Viking Spirit by Daniel McCoy.

* * *

 _He laughed softly, his fingers switching from brushing my hair back to gently rubbing across my cheek. "Are you jealous?"_

 _"Sometimes, maybe." I admitted. It was safe, I figured, to tell him now. If Dream Sookie and Dream Eric had an honest conversation, I wouldn't feel the urge to do it when I was awake. Right?_

 _"Don't be," He murmured, his thumb tracing my lip as I smiled. "There's been no one. Go to sleep."_

 _"Eric."_

 _"Sookie."_

 _"There's love in you, somewhere."_

 _His cool lips pressed to my temple, lingering for a moment before retreating. "Sleep, raring."_

 _I sighed contentedly, and the dream faded away._

* * *

The next morning, I woke up just past nine, feeling better-rested than I had in a while. I attributed it to the bed; I was definitely going to be buying a mattress just like this when I got back home.

 _I will get back home,_ I assured myself.

I could already tell Alcide was in the house, and I smiled at the thought that I wouldn't have to spend any time with Debbie Downer today. The memory of our little tiff still made my blood boil. Stretching, I stumbled out of bed to get ready for the day.

I joined Alcide in the living room some time later, freshly showered and dressed. He smiled when I walked in, two cups of coffee sitting on the table.

"I heard you get up, so I made you a cup."

"Oh, Alcide," I sighed, "You're the absolute best." I plopped down and took my first sip gratefully. Before I got too comfortable, there was a knock on the door. "Be right back," I murmuredo, setting my cup back down wistfully. Casting my mental net out, I recognized Bobby the dayman's dour thoughts.

 _Wonderful_. _Ohh, I can send him on a book run!_

I answered the door with a spring in my step, excited at the prospect of having something to read.

"Bobby," I greeted brightly, "How lovely to see you. What can I do for you?"

He scowled at me. "I'm here to see if you there's anything you need."

"Well," My smile grew, "As a matter of fact, there is! If you wanna just wait right here, I'll be back in two shakes." Closing the door in his scowling face, I went and fetched my book list. On a whim, I decided to pare it down a bit. I didn't need a ton of books—just a few, to tide me over until I got back home. As a plus, it left Bobby standing outside for a few extra minutes.

When I finally opened the door again, still grinning at him, Bobby's thoughts turned even meaner. It usually bothered me to be called a hussy, tramp, slut—all of which I was not—but coming from him, it was almost pathetic. After how awful yesterday had been, I definitely needed the boost, even if it was bad for my karma.

Bobby snatched the list from my hand. "Books?" He snorted. _Can this bitch even read_? "Fine. I'll be back."

"Quick as you like, Bobby." Still scowling, he turned and stomped back to his car, and I shut the door to go back to my coffee and Alcide.

"Ahh, still warm," I sighed, taking a big gulp. "How was the rest of your night, Alcide?"

He shrugged, scratching the scruff of his beard. "Not too bad. I didn't stay all night, just until y'all left. I was really just there to keep you company."

"And then you had to get up before dawn and tend to me again today. Sorry about that." I winced. It wasn't really my fault, I knew that, but I still felt bad for him. I know I'm a right terror when I don't get enough sleep.

"Aw, Sook, it's not like I'm doing anything here that requires a lot of energy. I can get by just fine on a little sleep, 'specially when I get to just hang around pretty girls all day." I laughed, thanking him for his compliment but careful not to encourage anything more.

A game show droned on in the comfortable silence that ensued, until Alcide spoke again. "So, a while after you fell asleep, Eric left the warehouse and came back."

I quirked an eyebrow at him. "Oh?"

"He had Debbie with him, but she didn't look none too happy about it. Did something else happen?"

"Well," I started, shifting in my seat. "She left a couple of hours before sunset. I imagine Eric was a little peeved at that. Why'd you send her in the first place?"

He shrugged. "It wasn't really my decision. She's a member of our pack, and a receptionist for the company, but she's not too well-liked."

"I can't imagine why," I quipped sourly.

Alcide laughed. "Yeah, well, when Dad needed me at a site, she was the most expendable one, so she took my spot. Somehow I don't think that'll be happening again."

I nodded. "So, what happened after he brought Debbie there?"

"Hard to say," he replied. "They went to the basement and he came back up alone. He took you home 'round midnight, so he had ample time to go back and…interrogate her afterwards."

I shivered; Eric wasn't human, and while I _knew_ that, the reality of that fact was always a little shocking. I'd seen Eric's interrogation of Crystal, and been manhandled by him myself, but it was still not a very pleasant thought.

 _Even if I do hate that Debbie Downer._

"How do you feel about seeing her brought in?" I asked him.

Alcide sighed, rubbing his palm on his leg. "A little conflicted, actually. I mean, we ain't together, but I still don't like the thought of her being mistreated. She's just got some demons, you know? She's not a bad person, she's just…"

"Troubled?" I supplied.

"Yeah, that'd be a good word for it. The man in me doesn't like the thought of her being punished, but the Were understands. It's just how things are done in the pack."

I scrunched my nose up. "As a human, let me just say I don't condone that kind of violence, even against a raging bitch like Debbie." I paused. "No offense."

Sweetheart that he was, Alcide took in stride. "None taken."

We spent the next few hours watching reruns of Maury, laughing at the misfortunes of the guests on the show. We were smack in the middle of one of the 'Who's the father?' episodes when another knock sounded on the door, and I grinned when I realized it was Bobby.

I went and opened the door, beaming at him. "Bobby! So good to see you!"

"Here," He growled, shoving a re-usable bag into my hands. "All the books you asked for. Bye."

I laughed as he stomped away, and I heard his anger ratchet up when he heard it. I closed the door and retreated back to the living room, excited to have something besides TV to occupy my time. Alcide looked at me questioningly when he saw me pulling the books out.

"Oh, just some stuff I had Bobby get me. I'm an avid reader, and I've been dying to get my hands on some books!" Alcide started reading over the titles; I should have been embarrassed at the smutty romance novels, but I just couldn't find it in me. I figured the more cultured books I asked for would cancel it out.

"Norwegian Wood…The Alchemist…Fight Club, really?" I shrugged; Palahniuk was a trippy read. "And…The Viking Spirit? Doing some homework on your jailer, Sook?" I detected more than a little jealousy in his tone, and in his thoughts.

"Well, I mean, they're an interesting people. Who doesn't like Vikings?" I mumbled.

"And this has nothing to do with anyone you know?"

"Absolutely not." Alcide's eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline, they rose so high in disbelief. "I mean it!" Thankfully, he let the subject drop, not even making another jibe when I opened the Viking book and started reading.

I hadn't specified this particular title in my list; I'd just written a request for something on Viking lore. Reading the synopsis on the back, I was begrudgingly pleased that Bobby had picked this one out for me.

 _The Viking Spirit is an introduction to Norse mythology like no other. As you'd expect from Daniel McCoy, the creator of the enduringly popular website Norse Mythology for Smart People, it's written to scholarly standards, but in a simple, clear, and entertaining style that's easy to understand and a pleasure to read. It includes gripping retellings of no less than 34 epic Norse myths—more than any other book in the field—while also providing an equally comprehensive overview of the fascinating Viking religion of which Norse mythology was a part. You'll learn about the Vikings' gods and goddesses, their concept of fate, their views on the afterlife, their moral code, how they thought the universe was structured, how they practiced their religion, the role that magic played in their lives, and much more. With its inclusion of the latest groundbreaking research in the field, The Viking Spirit is the ultimate introduction to the timeless splendor of the Norse mythology and religion for the 21st century._

I settled back into my seat and got lost in my new book, barely registering my surroundings until Alcide brought me a sandwich for dinner. I smiled in thanks, but went quickly back to reading. There was a small twinge of guilt for being so rude, but _The Viking Spirit_ really was that engrossing. In the safety of my thoughts, I allowed myself to fuse what I was reading with what I knew of Eric, and I began to slowly understand him better. The sixth chapter was titled Morality, and gave me perhaps the best insight to Eric's character:

… _But just as there was no "Golden Rule" ("do unto others as you would have them do unto you"), and no altruistic rationale that determined what was valued, savagery for the sake of savagery wasn't valued, either. Instead, the basis of Norse morality was self-interest as defined by and expressed through a certain code of honor. The concept of honor enabled the Vikings to channel their inherent communities to which they belonged…_

… _In the words of anthropologist Richard Bauman, "Not only did honor have to be enacted and observed, it had to be publically acknowledged, by being talked about and evaluated. The quest for honor was thus centrally a quest for reputation, resting on the need to be well talked about."_

I sat back and chewed my lip, setting the book down. Alcide looked at me questioningly, and I smiled reassuringly at him. The sun was nearly down at this point, which surprised me; I hadn't realized I'd been reading for so long. The book was very interesting, and I reminded myself to be less bitchy to Bobby the next time I saw him.

 _Well, I'll try, anyway. No promises._

"How long are you staying tonight?" I asked, standing up to stretch the kinks from my joints.

"Not much longer, probably. Vamps should be up soon." I nodded at him, and he continued. "I think Godric is gonna be the one with you tonight."

I was instantly intrigued. "Really? Why?"

"Might be he's curious about you."

I grinned. "I'm curious about him, too. I'd like to pick his brain."

"I bet you'd like to pick Eric's brain, too, after readin' some of that book, huh?" I rolled my eyes and shook my head at him, turning to head for the kitchen.

"You want some water?" I called behind me.

"Nah, I'm gonna be goin' here soon, Sook."

I shrugged and fixed myself a glass of water, draining and refilling it before making my way back to the living room. I settled back with the Viking book again, dog-earing the chapter on morality and skipping ahead to the myths themselves.

I was a few stories in when I looked up to reach for my glass and nearly jumped out of my skin; Alcide had disappeared from the room, and in his place was Godric, regarding me thoughtfully.

"Jesus, Godric," I gasped, a hand to my racing heart. "You gotta sneak up like that? Where'd Alcide go?"

"I apologize, Miss Stackhouse," He said softly. "I am not around humans often, and so I forget how easily startled you are. Your friend is doing one last patrol before he leaves." We stared at each other for a moment before he changed topics. "You are doing research?" His lips shifted up slightly in smile.

"Research?" It took me a few seconds to understand what he meant. "Oh, well, kind of, I guess. I just figured it's better to know your enemy."

"You think my Child is your enemy?" His eyebrows rose just fractionally; I didn't know what to make of it. Godric didn't seem the type to overly emote. He was very in control of himself.

"I meant no offense," I started, before he interrupted.

"I have taken none. I understand why you would be unhappy with my Progeny, even dislike him. Eric is not, at his core, a bad man. He is simply doing his job to the extent he deems fit."

"Like the book says," I mused out loud.

Godric smiled just a little wider, almost in amusement. "What did the book say, Miss Stackhouse?"

Unlike Eric, when Godric addressed me as such, it felt more respectful than sarcastic. "Please, call me Sookie. And to paraphrase, it said that it was important for Vikings to do things their community would think is good, and to have those things acknowledged. So…I get that he's trying to do good by other Vampires, and to hell with everyone else, but that don't make it right, what he's done to me."

"No," Godric answered, "That does not. I confess I play a role in his temperament. I was quite wild for most of my existence; even when I was older than he is now, I was more beast than man. I saw that same wildness in him. The Norse likened themselves to beasts when they fought their enemies, delighting in channeling bears and wolves as they stalked their prey in battle.

"Still, I fostered that in my Child, and while I have calmed down, Eric has not. He is still very wild at heart, even as he is restrained by our bureaucracy. You could even say he is rebelling against our kind by letting your brother go free in exchange for you."

I rose my eyebrows. "I really don't see how that's a rebellion so much as it's a miscarriage of justice."

"No, perhaps not. You would need a deeper understanding of Vampire politics to understand why he would consider this a 'rebellion' instead of kidnapping. Perhaps Eric will enlighten you one night."

I almost made a quip about how I wouldn't need to because I was going to figure out a way home, but I caught myself just in time. I couldn't afford to forget that Godric, as nice as he seemed, wasn't loyal to me; he was loyal to Eric. That did make me wonder, though, why Godric was here.

"So, are you babysitting me so you can finagle my secrets out of me and tell 'em all to Eric?"

Godric laughed, and I was almost surprised he had the ability. He seemed far too restrained for that much emotion. "No, Sookie. I volunteered of my own volition. Eric reports to me, not the other way around. Such is the bond between Maker and Child.

"I am curious about you. I simply want to talk with you, if you are amenable to that."

"How do I know this isn't some ploy?"

Godric looked confused. "A ploy for what?"

"To break me down, get inside my head?"

Godric's face turned more thoughtful as he considered me for a minute. "I think, Sookie, that you would be very hard to break down, and the question of getting inside your head is moot. Eric informed me you cannot be glamoured." His lips turned up in that semi-smile again. _Was he making a joke? And not even a bad one, for such a stiff_. "I suppose there is no way for you to know if this is, as you said, a ploy or not. If you want, I can keep watch from outside, and we won't have to talk at all."

Deciding it wouldn't hurt to chat—I was, after all, curious about him—I decided to start out on the offense. "Did y'all iron out all the details of your crazy plan?"

"For the most part, yes. As crazy as you say our plan is, I believe it will work. Perhaps I still have more wildness in me than I care to admit, but a part of me is thrilled at the prospect of this entire adventure. It has been...a long time coming. Avenging his family has weighed on Eric since before I turned him."

Before I could answer, Alcide walked into the living room. "Sookie, Godric, I'm gonna take off. All's clear out there. Stay sittin', Sook, I can see myself out." I had half-risen to walk him to the front door; Godric inclined his head in acknowledgement, and I made my own goodbyes.

"So," I started again, "Vikings were big on honor, huh?"

"Eric was, more accurately, of the Norse people; Viking was the term for going raiding."

"Yeah, Pam said as much; it's just a hard habit to break."

He gave me his semi-smile again. "I imagine it would be. Vampires tend to be sticklers for correct terminology. We can be annoying that way."

I snorted a laugh. "And others, too."

"I imagine you would think so. Eric can be abrasive, as can Pam." He granted. "They are well-suited that way."

"Yeah, I'd say that sums him up nicely."

"But, as I've said, there is goodness in my Child. He is only monstrous to those he feels deserve it. Not only is that the Vampire way, it was also the Norse way. But protecting those he cares for, avenging a murder from a millennium ago, these are good parts of him."

"I'm not disputing that he has goodness in him," I responded slowly, choosing my words carefully. "I can see there's a heart in him somewhere, even if it isn't a beating one. It's just…I'm pretty biased against him, you know?"

Godric stared at me, unblinking, for a few moments. I was starting to get uncomfortable when he spoke again, "Sookie, I do not agree with your imprisonment. I have tried to dissuade Eric from this decision to keep you; I believe in justice, and there is no justifying you serving your brother's sentence.

"However," He paused, "And please do not take this the wrong way, I believe his motives for keeping you have changed. At first, perhaps, it was simply to acquire a telepath. Your gift is very rare, maybe even singular. But something in him has shifted these last few days. Last night, for example, when he brought you home, I sensed a warmth inside of him. May I ask, what did you talk about?"

I raised my eyebrows. "We didn't talk about anything. I was asleep…"I trailed off, and flashes of my dream came back to me.

"You talked of nothing?" Godric prompted again.

I sat back in horror as the entirety of my 'dream' hit me.

Oh. My. God.

 _I didn't dream that. I fucking said those things out loud._


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

A/N: Thank you for your kind words! Sorry about the delay in chapters. I can usually write pretty fast, but real life can kick my ass sometimes! Please enjoy, and review!

* * *

Previously:

 _I raised my eyebrows. "We didn't talk about anything. I was asleep…"I trailed off, and flashes of my dream came back to me._

 _"You talked of nothing?" Godric prompted again._

 _I sat back in horror as the entirety of my 'dream' hit me._

 _Oh. My. God._

 _I didn't dream that. I fucking said those things out loud._

* * *

"Sookie?" Godric's calm voice prompted again. I shoved my face into my hands, utterly overcome with horror. I could have sworn that was all a dream. How could I have been so stupid?

 _Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God._

I was aware that I was rocking back and forth, probably looking like a complete lunatic. That would only be fitting, I supposed, given how I was crazy enough to tell Eric there was love in him, and he was jealous of Alcide, and…Christ. I had really said I was jealous.

Out loud.

 _To Eric._

"Sookie." Godric's voice was more insistent, and I peeked over my trembling hands at him. I could only muster a grunt to let him know I'd heard him. "What was so terrible about your conversation?" To his credit, he looked utterly bemused. Surely that meant Eric hadn't shared our conversation?

 _Maybe he won't tell anyone and we can just forget about it, and it'll fade away like it never even happened,_ I thought hysterically.

"I don't want to talk about it," I whispered, my hands still covering most of my face.

Godric gave his version of a smile again, just his lips tilting upwards, before he responded. "Surely it isn't as bad as you think it is."

I cleared my throat, trying to dislodge the shame that had clogged it. "It is!" I croaked. "God, I'm such an idiot, I thought I was asleep…"I trailed off miserably.

"Something you said to Eric made him happy," Godric said gently. "There was a warmth blooming inside of my Child I haven't felt for centuries. It was akin to how he felt for Pam, before her turning. I don't mean to pry, I am simply curious what has caused this shift inside of him."

I sat back in my chair, taking deep breaths to calm myself down. "I…I told him there was love inside of him."

"That was the only thing?"

"What does raw-ring mean?" I asked in lieu of answering him.

"Raw-ring? Do you mean, _raring_?"

"Yeah, I think so."

Godric considered me for a moment before he spoke again. " _Raring_ is a Swedish endearment. Modern Swedes are not in the habit of using pet names very often—although, as I've said, Eric is not your average _anything_. It's somewhat old-fashioned, but the general translation would be 'sweetheart'. Did he say this to you, last night?"

I flushed. "Yeah. Usually he just calls me 'sweetheart' when he's being a jackass, though."

"But he wasn't being, as you say, a jackass, correct? This was a more heartfelt conversation?"

I stared at Godric, mulling over his words. Was it heartfelt? Recalling the words, I had to admit it _did_ seem rather heartfelt. Maybe not as deep as when we'd shared our depressing stories, but still fairly meaningful. Honestly, if I had known I wasn't dreaming, I wouldn't have even been able to admit to myself that I was anywhere near jealous. I didn't have a right to be, and I didn't really want that right. I couldn't pinpoint why I was so upset at the thought that he was drinking from someone else, unless it was the whole _'feed and fuck'_ thing Alcide had told me about.

Eric was an incredibly attractive man. Then again, so were a lot of those boy band members I used to pant over as a preteen. I would never have had a chance to date any of them, what with their being famous and so much older, but it still had my world crashing down when the cute ones were dating pop starlets. The two situations weren't so different, I supposed. Physical attraction is where most relationships start, and Eric had beauty in spades.

It made sense to me that I'd want an attractive man's attention all to myself, especially given my life-long drought in that arena. I could admit that the things he'd said to me in his car the other night, the lusty way his eyes devoured me, had made my spine tingle in the most delicious way. Was it because he was just a handsome man paying attention to me, or was it something else?

I _did_ believe there was love and goodness in him. There was no question he had the capacity to care deeply for someone. When I thought about how he had opened up to me about his family, willingly sharing the traumatic details, it made my heart ache for his pain. It made me feel uncomfortably warm, too, deep in my belly. It felt _good_ that he'd trusted me enough to tell me how his family had died. It had also felt good to share what Uncle Bartlett had done to me, to relieve myself of some of that burden. I hadn't realized how much it still weighed on me. Telling Eric about my childhood molestation was like pulling a thorn out of my heart; even now, I could feel the sore spot healing. A part of me would always be grateful to him for just listening; it didn't matter how we'd gotten to that point, or that someone down the line would might have been willing to hear my story the way he had. What mattered was that he was the first person to listen to it all, the first one to help me carry that weight.

All in all, I chalked up my envy at the thought of him with other women to base physical attraction, and the fact that a seed of affection had been planted. I didn't want to marry him or anything, but there was a certain camaraderie I felt with him after our intimate moment. It was unsettling, to say the least, knowing I had anything but disdain for the Vampire who'd taken my freedom away.

"Sorry," I murmured, "I got pretty deep in the weeds there."

Godric looked puzzled. "I don't understand this term."

I laughed. "It just means I was lost in my own head."

"Ah." He nodded in response. "Understand, I am only asking about your conversation with my Child out of curiosity. The prospect of Eric feeling new things after so long…I confess that it excites me."

"Why?"

"As I've said, I was a wild Vampire, even centuries after I turned Eric. However, I have developed an appreciation for the human race, one that no other Vampire in my bloodline shares, and the idea that they could change their way of thinking…It is quite thrilling to think about."

I drummed my fingers on my thigh, wondering how much I should share with Godric. Eric obviously hadn't shared anything with his Maker, but maybe Godric would give me some insight. It couldn't hurt to try, I reasoned. "I said…I said I was jealous, mostly of the thought he was with other women."

Godric's eyebrows rose. "You have not been with Eric intimately. I am certain of this."

"Well, no," I said, a little flustered. "I don't know how to explain it. I suppose it's silly, that I would be jealous of _anything_ he does. We aren't even remotely in that kind of relationship—or one at all, really. He _is_ a looker, and I don't get a lot of attention, especially from people who look like him, so it's really just that he was flirting with me and I enjoyed it, and then—" I knew I was rambling, but I couldn't seem to stop. Thankfully, Godric cut in and saved me from embarrassing myself further.

"I understand, Sookie. He has confided in you what happened to his human family, which is no small thing for Eric. It stands to reason you would feel close to him after that. If it is any consolation, I don't think you are alone in your jealousy."

I smiled ruefully. "He said he was jealous, too."

Godric smiled his half-smile again. "Yes, he is. My Child took his time in deciding if he wanted to bring in Alcide last night. He served no true purpose aside from keeping you company."

"If he's jealous of Alcide," I started, the words feeling strange in my mouth, "Why does he keep letting him hang around?"

"He feels your contentment around the wolf, I am sure. I am also certain that he monitors your feelings through the bond, particularly around your friend, and has detected no amorous feelings on your end. I would say he feels secure in the knowledge your relationship will stay platonic, even if the wolf has developed a…crush on you."

"So, he's not really jealous of Alcide as a person, he's jealous that…what, I spend quality time with someone who isn't him?"

"Correct," He nodded, still smiling. "You are quite intelligent, Sookie."

I stared at him. "Why are you telling me this? You're being…very forthcoming."

"I've explained I appreciate your race," He paused briefly, "And I would like to see Eric come around to my way of thinking—and through him, Pam. I think that you could, perhaps, help in that regard. Already, I can feel a shift inside of him."

My brows furrowed, equal parts befuddled and miffed. "So you're using me? I just lay around in captivity to try and make Eric more humane?"

"Yes, and no. You are slowly changing him; this I have felt, in such a few short days. The timeline has been remarkable, really. He knows his own mind very well, but you are softening something within him. It may sound like I'm using you, but I would…encourage you to think of the benefits you would reap if he were to be more sympathetic to your cause."

I was completely bewildered. "You want me to manipulate him into getting myself free?"

"No," He replied quickly. "I don't want you to manipulate him at all. Eric is far too intelligent not to see through an act. I don't want you to change your behavior at all; I encourage you to keep doing whatever it is you do when you're alone with him."

I rubbed my forehead, trying to sort out this whole strange conversation. "Okay, so, you just want me to keep talking to him and sassing him when he steps out of line?"

Strangely, Godric looked almost _excited_ that I'd cottoned on. "Yes! Sookie, I want you to keep being yourself. It is _you,_ your personality, that is changing him. Something about you is so alluring to Eric that he wants to know more about you. Your happiness and comfort is becoming more important to him. _You_ are becoming more important to him. When Pam suggested you act as the human bait in Russell's mansion, Eric rejected it so vehemently I knew he cared for you as more than just a telepath. Please, trust me in this, Sookie. I know my Child."

All I could do was gape at him. My mind was a whirl, trying to process all of this information, trying to see what Godric was getting at. I couldn't figure out any kind of ulterior motive, and I knew in my gut Godric wasn't manipulating me to be more compliant with Eric.

"Godric," I started, trying to phrase my words right, "It sounds like I'd have to…open myself up more to Eric. Let him in, so to speak."

Godric nodded. "Yes. I know it seems a lot to ask for, but really, what have you got to lose from trying? I can feel his protectiveness over you, his attraction. You've admitted, yourself, you have tender feelings for my Child, as well. To use a human phrase, what's the worst that could happen?"

Good question. What _is_ the worst that can happen?

I could stay locked up forever, alone, miserable, unloved, rejected. The same trajectory Eric had been insisting I was on from the moment he kidnapped me.

But…

If I were to play along—no, not play along. If I were to do as Godric suggested, try to open _both_ of our hearts and do it without mind games…I could go home.

I could go back to my life, I could go outside by myself. The thought of it made my throat tighten, just the idea that I would be my own person again. I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as I tried to dislodge the lump in my throat.

"Okay," I croaked out before clearing my throat. "Okay, I'll do it. At least, I'll try. It's up to him how much I let my defenses down."

Godric smiled. "I can only ask that you try, Sookie."


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I own nothing!  
A/N: Please review!

* * *

Previously:

 _If I were to play along—no, not play along. If I were to do as Godric suggested, try to open both of our hearts and do it without mind games…I could go home._

 _I could go back to my life, I could go outside by myself. The thought of it made my throat tighten, just the idea that I would be my own person again. I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as I tried to dislodge the lump in my throat._

 _"Okay," I croaked out before clearing my throat. "Okay, I'll do it. At least, I'll try. It's up to him how much I let my defenses down."_

 _Godric smiled. "I can only ask that you try, Sookie."_

* * *

Once I'd acquiesced to Godric's proposal, we moved on to lighter topics for a time. He was genuinely interested in my life, asking about my family and how I grew up. I couldn't imagine what was so interesting about me, given how much crazy stuff he must have seen in his long life. I told him as much and he laughed.

"You would be surprised how fascinating the 'mundane' can be when you have eternity to learn. Sometimes, it's the day-to-day lives of humans that keep me interested in existing."

I looked at him curiously. "You get bored? There's so much to learn, though! All the different sciences, math, new languages, not to mention all the new books that are published every day. Surely there's something you can find to occupy your time?"

"Yes, there are always things to learn, but that doesn't mean those things are _interesting_ ," He said, smiling. "Eventually, most of our kind get bored enough to try out a subject we aren't quite keen on, but that can take a while. Much of it is dependent on the attitude of the individual Vampire."

I thought for a moment, considering his words. "So...have you thought about, you know, not being Vampire anymore?" I chewed on my lip, worried I'd overstepped my bounds. Godric and I stared at each other for a few moments before he answered.

"Sometimes," He admitted softly. "This is not something you will share with Eric." He gave me a stern look and I nodded quickly. "He suspects my melancholy, through our bond, but it's not something he is willing to face. Losing another parent figure is not a thought he relishes."

"So he sees you as his dad?"

He smiled again as he answered. "The Maker-Child bond is complex. We are more than just Maker and Child; we are father, brother, and son to each other. We teach each other, help one another thrive and grow. We are loyal, always there through trials and tribulations. Eric was my first Progeny, and I believe he will outlast us all. He has always had a thirst for life; I don't think he will ever consider seeking the Sun. Sometimes I wonder if he has the capacity to consider not enjoying life, even as old as he is." The passion in Godric's voice took me aback.

 _I wonder what it's like, to love someone that much. To_ be _loved that much._ I sighed wistfully, burying the morose thoughts for another day.

"You have other Vampire kids?"

Godric chuckled at my terminology. "Yes, one other. Her name is Nora. Eric asked me to turn her."

My eyebrows rose. "Why didn't he do it himself?"

"I don't think Eric felt ready to be a Maker, but neither could he let Nora die. He was drawn to her." I could feel a green-eyed monster hop onto my back, and I tried my best to shake it off.

 _Another thing to think about later._

I rubbed my eyes and yawned, suddenly mentally exhausted.

"You are tired," Godric observed. "You should rest. I believe Eric will be by at first dark tomorrow."

My heart sped up. "Why?"

"Before we infiltrate, we think it would be best if you received some basic training in self-defense. We would also like to test your telepathy a bit, if you are amenable."

I smiled. "Will I be helping your 'human bait' with my little curse?"

Godric's lips tilted upwards. "I don't think Eric would enjoy that. I believe his intention is to use your _gift_ while keeping you as far from the fray as possible."

I rose from my seat and stretched, working out the kinks that had formed during our little heart-to-heart. "I'll see you tomorrow then, Godric. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Sookie," He replied. "I will be keeping watch tonight, if you need me." I nodded and made my way to my bedroom, getting ready for bed quickly. I felt strangely at peace, and fell into a deep sleep quickly.

* * *

I couldn't tear my eyes from her.

 _Min raring._

She lay sleeping on her side, golden waves trailing across the pillow. Her pert little mouth was slack as she dreamt; no snarky smiles or biting wit this night. My fingers flexed as I resisted the urge to smooth my cool hands over those lips, rosy and pliant as they were. My jaw tensed as I clenched my teeth together, as if my longing for this woman could be ground between my long-useless molars and spat out. If I could expel this foreign feeling, I would. If I could ignore the invisible cord I felt in my gut, pulling me always towards Sookie, I would.

Fuck, but she was enticing. Sunlight captured in fresh honey and stewed with ripe wheat, so potent I could _feel_ the sticky sweetness clogging my throat. She was honeyed mead on a hot summer day, the exhilarating laughter of children as they danced around a maypole in Midsömmer. Just the thought of burying my face in her hair, inhaling those sweet memories, had my eyes rolling backwards and my fangs throbbing in my gums.

I could hardly believe my ears when her useless brother told me his sister knew things she shouldn't.

 _It's like she can read minds,_ he'd said.

The torture had scarcely started before he gave her up, screaming that he would help me get to her if I just let him go. I had been disgusted at how easily he betrayed his sister, but the thought of having a telepath at my disposal was such an intriguing prospect that it had given me tunnel vision. He had told me all I wanted to know about Sookie, even as he protected himself. It had taken mere minutes for Pam and I to hatch a plan.

The blood thief had said Sookie worked at Merlotte's bar; the Shifter and I knew each other by scent, so I couldn't scout her there. It would have to be at her home, the run-down farmhouse in the middle of nowhere.

There had been something, some kind of magic, barring me from setting foot on the porch. I could come no closer than just a scant two feet from the steps. The grandmother was already asleep when we arrived that night to wait for his sister—I could hear the deep, even breaths that indicated rest, mildly impressed the old woman didn't snore. I glamoured the pathetic creature into compliance, instructing him that he would lead his sister into the woods, safely away from whatever ward encompassed her house.

"You will think of nothing but getting her into the trees," I'd growled into his blank face. "Lure her away or you'll go back to the warehouse."

I didn't know yet if Sookie really was a telepath or how her mind-reading worked. Could she delve into their every thought? Read their memories as if their brain were a book? Or was it like skimming cream, only getting the bits that floated to the top? Either way, I didn't want her to be made aware her days of freedom were drawing to a close.

Jason, himself, was a sweet-smelling human; better than average. I had thought Sookie might smell similar, but nothing prepared me for the heady scent that rolled off of her. She was all good things packaged in a pretty blonde bottle.

She was also, as I learned, immune to my glamour. I hadn't encountered that in any other human and didn't know what to make of it. I couldn't make her shut up, but her fiery attitude was just as alluring as her scent was. I came to enjoy our banter and I tried desperately to hide my giddiness even as I tried to scare her enough to cooperate.

I had sent Pam to destroy Sookie's car, driving it several miles away before dumping it into a swamp. The plan was to make it seem as if she had left without a trace to minimize how often they'd swatch for her. I had no doubt the Shifter would investigate on his own—Jason had told me Merlotte carried a torch for my telepath—but ultimately he would be able to prove nothing, even if he did manage to catch my scent. I was quite positive Sookie would never be found.

When my Child had arrived back at the warehouse, mud splattered up to her neck, I'd already shut Sookie away for the night. I told Pam as much and, to my surprise, she rolled her eyes.

"Eric, you know nothing of women."

I grinned. "I have bedposts whittled away to nothing that prove otherwise."

"That's not what I mean," She had drawled, beginning to shed her soiled clothes. There was no modesty between her and I; we had spent many nights fucking, and neither one of us had ever been shy as humans. "You treat her like a dog, she'll only ever be a vicious animal to you. I suggest you keep her somewhere that isn't this shitty warehouse locked in a shitty little cell." Before I could respond, Pam exited my office, presumably toward the communal showers to clean the muck from her skin.

I had intended to keep Sookie in the warehouse indefinitely, but my Child's words had held some merit. A happy telepath was a willing telepath.

 _Or a more willing one, at any rate_.

My real estate portfolio was extensive, but in Shreveport I owned only three properties: My main residence, a back-up house, and an apartment in my dayman's name. I had glamoured Bobby to never rescind my invitation and never allow another Vampire entry, just in case I needed a last-minute hideout.

The apartment wouldn't do. If Sookie were to call that place home, the magic might recognize her as a resident. She could invite other Vampires in, or rescind my invitation. It was a risk I couldn't take.

It was tempting to keep her in the house I occupied; she had a body to die for. Her hips were made to be gripped as I fucked her, her thighs were lush and supple. But she was far too headstrong, I already knew, to trust her in my home.

The only viable option was the safe house. It had all the creature comforts she would require and then some. I had Pam work with Bobby to make the house fit for a human, stocking it with food and clothing and toiletries. Sookie would want for nothing material; she was a prisoner, but I saw the benefits of keeping her relatively comfortable.

I had always planned to slip Sookie my blood; I needed to keep track of her. There was also something alluring about the thought of knowing what she was feeling. In our brief interactions, she had proven to have a quick wit and a clever mind. I could appreciate these traits, on top of her physical attributes. In short, I was curious about Miss Stackhouse.

What I hadn't planned on was the shame I felt when Sookie told me of her uncle the night we interrogated her brother's lovers. My people could be cruel and loved the thrill of battle, but rape was against our code of honor. Giving her my blood was a necessity; it was non-negotiable. But once I knew the pain I had caused in her, I wondered if I should have tried a different tactic. _Min raring_ had proven able to see reason; perhaps I could have convinced her to take it willingly. She might have still refused, but my emotions would be less…unsettled.

To my horror, 'unsettled' would prove to be the simplest of emotions Sookie evoked in me. The most complex and bewildering, as I learned several hours before my Sookie shared her pain with me, would be jealousy.

Older Vampires rise before true dark; I was in the habit of using those precious few hours to handle bothersome paperwork. When I rose that evening, however, all I could concentrate on was Sookie's emotions. Her happiness, the pure enjoyment she was feeling. The comfort. _It wasn't with me._ I couldn't clear my head enough to rationalize my jealousy away, not even analyze why I would be jealous in the first place.

 _She's enjoying her time with the wolf. She's never felt that way around me._

I tried to tell myself—and Sookie—that it was merely a security matter; if she made a habit of growing too close to her security guards, they could become too sympathetic to her and help her escape. I couldn't have that. I almost believed my own lie, until she burst into tears outside of Maudette Pickens' house. Not for the last time, I was struck with regret for causing her so much sorrow. I had gathered that Sookie was not a well-loved person in her community, but I had no way of knowing how much it weighed on her. Watching her cry as she realized the depths of her hometown's apathy towards her made my dead heart clench.

She had done remarkably well when we were interrogating Maudette, working calmly and efficiently. I had to actively fight down the laugh after Sookie told me Miss Pickens was thinking of Anne Rice when I mentioned Vampires; a jolt had shot through my nervous system when our eyes locked, our shared mirth ricocheting in the weak blood tie I had created. Sookie had torn her eyes away, her emotions a garbled mess. We left soon after, leaving no evidence that we had been there.

Pamela had secured the Werepanther, Crystal Norris, during our interrogation of Maudette, reporting that the smell of Vampire blood had permeated her trailer. I was aware the majority of Hot Shot was two-natured; they weren't under my authority, but I did have to deal with them in my Sheriff duties. I hadn't known there was V circulating in their pack, however.

The possibility that this was related to the slaughter of my human family left me reeling. Through my centuries, I had hunted for their murderer; after all this time, however, I hadn't held much hope of ever finding the killer. I had come close in Nazi Germany, only to lose the trail. It was maddening. My fingers had nearly crushed the steering wheel as I sped back to the warehouse that night, Sookie leaving me to my thoughts on the drive. I felt myself unwillingly appreciating this small gift from her, as if she knew I needed the silence.

I had, admittedly, lost my temper when I was face-to-face with the two-natured bloodwhore. I could barely restrain myself from cracking every bone in her body, slowly bleeding her to death, letting her filthy life force drip into a grate. It would be a fitting execution, but I still needed her. Her end would come soon enough.

When Sookie was able to pry a name— _Russell Edgington—_ from Crystal's mind, everything clicked. I knew him by name, though not by sight; he was quite old, roughly the age of Godric and myself together. He would certainly have existed when I was human. This, combined with the fact that Sookie had seen a crowd of Weres drinking his blood, achieving a kind of berserker high, cemented my suspicions. Russell Edgington, King of Mississippi, had killed my parents and baby sister. He had stolen my father's crown.

I sent Sookie upstairs, away from the violence I would enact on Crystal fucking Norris. She had done enough for one night. Try as I might, however, I got very little else from my newest prisoner. It was commendable how she stood up to torture, really. I almost didn't have the heart to tell her this was just the beginning.

 _Almost._

I would spare _min raring_ the images of what was in store for the Werepanther. A part of me didn't want her exposed to the darkness all Vampires carried within them; I didn't want her to think of me as a monster. Crystal Norris would be questioned away from Sookie. I didn't bother to examine why I felt this way, after a scant few nights in her presence.

I had called Calvin Norris, the Hot Shot packmaster, to ask about the Vampire blood. He was quick to assure me that Crystal was a one-off, the only one involved. I thanked him for his honesty, hung up, and immediately told a trusted Vampire in my retinue to arrange for a twenty-four hour watch on the community. He may have been telling the truth, but I wasn't fool enough to simply take him at his word. The two-natured have noses almost as good as a Vampire's; surely he had smelt it.

Before rejoining Sookie and Pam, I downed several bags of blood to take the edge off of my bloodlust. In general, I can go for a while without drinking. The older you are, the less you need, but this night had spiked my hunger. I had no patience left to heat it, so I bit into the small bags and drained them greedily. I wasn't sated, but I was confident I wouldn't attack my Sookie.

Once I'd dismissed Pam for the night, I led Sookie from the warehouse. We were quiet, her pensive and I simply trying not to ravage her. The overwhelming scent of her was clogging my lungs, a beautiful perfume sinking into the leather she sat on. My cock was hard, straining against the seam of my jeans from the combination of leftover bloodlust and her naturally sweet aroma.

She had tried to dodge my question—the one that ultimately led to her divulging her uncle's molestation and, in hindsight, beginning my complete freefall into obsession over her—but I was able to convince her to open up with a few dirty words. I could both feel and _smell_ she liked me telling her I would _fuck her right out of her clothes_ ; the rush of heady arousal emanating from her clenched highs at my statement was like a drug. It made me want to dive between her legs and feast until I was sated; I was certain she would be as delicious as she smelled.

My own arousal abated when I learned of her horrific tale. Again, rape is not tolerated by honorable men. I abhor it, personally, and have not so much as glamoured a woman into my bed. When she finished, I felt her lightness, her relief. I could feel her starting to heal, and I found myself sharing the death of my family. Sookie's rapt attention was a gift, one I found I treasured. At the end of my story, I was able to pull myself back together, my bloodlust gone for the time being. I sent her on her way.

The next night was a flurry of contacting my Maker and sharing the information with him. Godric agreed to temporarily leave his post as Sheriff of Area Nine in Texas to aid me, and before the night was through, we were reunited. He had been quite wild for most of his existence, but there had been a softening in him the past few centuries. It was no surprise, then, that he didn't approve of keeping an innocent locked up to pay for another's crimes. He'd tried to persuade me to let her go, get Jason back to serve his own sentence. Through our bond, Godric had surely felt my possession, my anger at the suggestion. I couldn't let her go.

"Eric," He had said in his soft voice, "Do you feel for this human?"

I had thought he was mocking me, but a quick check of our bond proved he was quite serious.

"Yes, Master," I had replied. "Though I'm certain it will pass."

He had looked disbelieving, but thankfully let the matter drop. I was grateful.

The next night, I arrived at Sookie's new home to find her guard-less. I was unfamiliar with the scent, though I could discern it was a female Werewolf. To my delight, Sookie hadn't attempted an escape, merely stayed by the house. I could feel her outside, soaking up sunlight. As soon as she walked into the living room, I could smell the rays clinging to her, and I couldn't—didn't want to—stop myself from nuzzling into her neck, surrounding myself with her. She was enjoying the attention, I could tell.

When I asked why she didn't leave when she had the chance, I could tell part of her was lying as she said, "Well, I mean, how far could I realistically get?" _Later,_ I decided. _I will think about this later._

I ended the conversation and brought her to the warehouse, quickly bringing her up to speed on the situation and, more importantly, introducing her to Godric. My Maker had shown quite a bit of interest in my telepath and I found I was eager to have them meet. This could have been done at the safe house, I suppose, but something in me simply wanted to be alone near her. I couldn't very well cuddle on the couch and watch a movie with her, however, so a twenty minute car ride would have to do. As she wouldn't be needed for the entire meeting, I decided to have Alcide come to spend time with her. She didn't truly need a babysitter as Godric, Pam, and I continued to flesh out our plan of infiltration, but I refused to admit to anyone, besides myself, that I felt lighter when I knew she was happy.

And spending time with _Alcide_ made her happy.

Fucking two-natureds.

Pam had floated the idea that Sookie would do some scouting at Russell's mansion during the day, when we were all asleep. The thought made me so enraged I nearly backhanded my Child, and I'd not used physical punishment in over a century. I was furious that she would handle Sookie's life so carelessly. The job would be dangerous, and while I acknowledged the need to have my telepath with us, I refused to put her in unnecessary harm. No, the job of snooping would go to a human with no value.

 _Absolutely not my Sookie._

I absently monitored Sookie's emotions as she spent time with _Alcide_ , floating between relaxed and confused and, finally, sleepy. When our meeting came to a close, Godric and I had found Sookie asleep on a cot. He questioned me, again, on my decision to keep her as my prisoner, but I continued to dig my heels in. She wasn't leaving me.

I felt more secure in that decision when she initiated a conversation, still half-asleep. I was shocked when she said Alcide thought I was jealous; I was dumbfounded when I agreed with her. It was true, of course; I was jealous they spent all day together, I coveted how easily she laughed around him. _I wanted that_.

When she admitted her own jealousy at the thought I'd been feeding from and fucking someone else, I was almost giddy. My dead heart soared at the thought I inspired the same emotions in _min raring_. I assured here there was no one, no reason to be jealous. I hadn't had even the desire to get my carnal pleasures from another blood bag. My cock wanted only her. My fangs would reject any flesh that wasn't hers.

I lay in bed just before dawn, aching to be buried inside of my Sookie. My member was thick and turgid with the memory of her, pre-cum gathering on the tip. For the first time in countless decades, I had to relieve myself, thinking only of Sookie; her golden skin, her toned arms, the way her ass was high and rounded. I came with a roar, imagining the sound of our skin slapping together, how her pussy would clench around me if I spanked her.

I couldn't fathom how needy I'd become in such a short time, but I also couldn't muster any resentment for it. I just wanted her. I fell into my day death hardly sated.

Godric had wanted to spend the next night with her, though he was vague in his reasons why. Opting to give them some privacy, I waited until I could feel Sookie at rest before I went to her, dropping off the clothes Pam insisted the telepath would need for the self-defense lessons I'd planned. If we were going on a dangerous mission, one that would almost definitely end in bloodshed, my Sookie would be prepared.

And so, there I stood, watching the rise and fall of her chest under the covers as she breathed. It was enthralling. Even as I recounted the handful of days she'd been in my custody, I couldn't fathom how I had become this mess. I was like an adolescent Vampire with no emotional control. Seeing her laying there, soft and pliant, made me want to lay there, too.

I kicked my shoes off, removed my leather jacket, and crept underneath the covers with her. As soon as I pulled her into me, I felt contentment start to seep into her sleeping brain. One small hand came to rest on my forearm as she snuggled back into my embrace, exhaling deeply as she got comfortable. I closed my eyes, nuzzling into the back of her neck. I simply lay there with her, breathing unnecessarily in time with my Sookie, feeling more at peace than I could ever remember. It was illogical, how good this felt. It made no sense to me that I was finding peace in the arms of a human.

When I left her several hours later to seek shelter for the day, I had to wonder if she wasn't the only one being held prisoner.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

A/N: Sorry for taking so long! This one's a long one, so I hope that makes up for my absence. I hope you enjoy, and please review!

* * *

 _Previously:_

 _And so, there I stood, watching the rise and fall of her chest under the covers as she breathed. It was enthralling. Even as I recounted the handful of days she'd been in my custody, I couldn't fathom how I had become this mess. I was like an adolescent Vampire with no emotional control. Seeing her laying there, soft and pliant, made me want to lay there, too._

 _I kicked my shoes off, removed my leather jacket, and crept underneath the covers with her. As soon as I pulled her into me, I felt contentment start to seep into her sleeping brain. One small hand came to rest on my forearm as she snuggled back into my embrace, exhaling deeply as she got comfortable. I closed my eyes, nuzzling into the back of her neck. I simply lay there with her, breathing unnecessarily in time with my Sookie, feeling more at peace than I could ever remember. It was illogical, how good this felt. It made no sense to me that I was finding peace in the arms of a human._

 _When I left her several hours later to seek shelter for the day, I had to wonder if she wasn't the only one being held prisoner._

* * *

I woke up the next afternoon feeling incredibly well-rested, in the same position I'd fallen asleep. In my _real_ life, I didn't like to sleep so late in the day; it always felt like such a waste to me. I could feel myself transitioning slowly to being a night owl, however, though I supposed it was only to be expected. It's not like Eric was demanding my help in the middle of the day, nor did I have to get up early to do household chores for Gran before work. This kind of existence would definitely wear on me, I decided, if I didn't pick up a hobby besides reading to keep myself occupied. Alcide and I could only talk so much.

I rolled out of bed and was surprised to see a pile of clothes at the foot. Laying them out, I discovered they were workout clothes, soft and stretchy. I ran my hands over the fabric, delighting in the luxurious cloth. I figured they'd been left for my 'self-defense training' later tonight, and I wondered who had left them. Godric surely would have given them to me last night, and I just couldn't see Eric running his own errands. I figured it must have been Bobby, and my stomach twisted unpleasantly at the thought of him being near me while I was unconscious. I tried to be a good, Christian woman and give everyone a chance, but he just really got under my skin. I shook the disgust off and got ready for the day.

It passed fairly uneventfully, just hanging out with Alcide and being lazy. I even made time to lay out in the warm sun, enjoying the fresh scent of summer. I justified not doing anything by telling myself I was conserving energy for tonight. I had no idea what Godric meant by 'self defense training', but it would obviously be physical. Not to mention, he wanted to test out my telepathy, and that was always an energy drainer.

Hours later, when the sun was comfortably below the horizon, I sensed a void show up on my mental radar. Several moments passed before Eric walked through the door. I decided not to notice how his black jeans and t-shirt clung to him, though a small part of me did wonder how he expected to do anything physical in such tight clothing.

"Northman," Alcide ground out as he stood to his full height. He was roughly the same size as Eric, if a tad more muscular-though I was certain Eric's Vampire strength would outclass Alcide's Werewolf strength any day of the week. "Debbie's gone missing from the pack. Know anything about that?" I was a little taken aback; Alcide had mentioned she was hauled into the warehouse, but he hadn't said anything else about it since then.

Eric lifted a blonde brow, nonplussed by the question. "No. You're aware that she was released early last night from my custody."

My day guard growled. "Well, she's missing now. The Packmaster knows she was let go, but she never came before him afterwards. You do something to her?"

"No," Eric said again, clearly bored with the conversation already. "I released her in decent condition"-I winced at the thought of what 'decent condition' meant-"and she was free to do as she liked afterwards. Her not turning up for pack punishment has nothing to do with me. Sookie, if you would please change into your new training clothes?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Hello to you, too, Mister Manners. Alcide, I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good night, good luck with finding Debbie."

I turned and left the room to go change, as Eric had asked. The Southern Belle in me was rankled by his lack of a greeting, which was incredibly rude. A part of me, I could even admit, was stung by his indifference. Either Godric was dead wrong (no pun intended) or Eric was better than I thought at hiding his emotions-and I considered myself to be well-verse in deciphering body language. Either way, the least he could've done was greet me. I wasn't expecting him to bow and kiss my hand, but a 'Hello, Sookie!' wouldn't have killed him!

I fumed as I changed clothes, wrapping my hair into a bun on the top of my head before I stomped back to the living room. The lack of a snarly brain in the living room indicated Alcide had left, leaving me alone with the Sheriff. I was too agitated to care about the revelation I'd had the night before-telling Eric all of those mortifying things-but in the back of my mind, I hoped he wouldn't bring it up. He'd said more or less the same things I had, so perhaps ridiculing me for my stupid little crush wasn't in his best interest.

Eric regarded me with cool eyes when I re-entered the room, my arms crossed over my chest. It was another moment before he spoke. "You are angry."

"You're real observant," I snapped.

"Why?" His head tilted to the side slightly, his golden hair barely shifting with the movement.

"I don't see that it really matters. Let's just go." I tried to walk past him to the front door, but he grabbed my arm.

"Tell me," he said, gently. There was an intensity to his face that made my heart beat a little faster. I thought for a few moments before answering him.

"It's rude to talk to someone without greeting them."

Eric's expression morphed into incredulity. "You're upset that I didn't say hello."

"Uh, yeah, I am. I'm a woman from the South, why are you surprised?" I groused, shaking his hand off of my arm.

"Most of what I do seems to upset you, Miss Stackhouse."

I eyed him unhappily. "Well, you kidnapped me. Don't expect me to be happy around you."

To my surprise, he raised a hand to cup my cheek, stroking his thumb across the bone just under my eye. "Why?" He asked again, his blue eyes softening, his fingers cool and strong against my face. I swallowed thickly, not ready to have this conversation. I didn't know if I ever would be, honestly.

"Don't," I said softly. "Let's just go." Eric let his hand fall away, his expression morphing back into the calm and collected Sheriff Northman.

"After you, sweetheart," He said, opening the front door for me. My cheeks flushed slightly at the nickname, imagining Eric saying _'min raring'_ in the place of _'sweetheart'_. They may have translated into the same thing, but they were vastly different. It was all in the tone, I supposed.

Eric closed the door behind him, unlocked his flashy sports car, and patiently waited for me to strap myself in before revving out of the driveway. The silence between us felt awkward and oppressive, and I was afraid he would ask another question I wasn't prepared to answer, so I decided to beat him to the punch.

"What happened with Debbie Pelt?"

"We brought her in, delivered punishment, and let her go."

I sighed, exasperated. "You know I'm asking for more information than that. Why did you take her to the warehouse?"

"Because," He began, "She left her post. Debbie was tasked to stay at the safe house until she was relieved of duty, and she left several hours early. You could have escaped, and then I'd have to go through the trouble of hunting you down. Not that I'd be complaining, of course; I do enjoy a chase, if you're ever in the mood to run, Miss Stackhouse."

"I'm not that stupid."

"No, you aren't, unfortunately for me." He sighed dramatically, and I actively fought a grin from splitting my face.

"What did you do to her at the warehouse?"

"Are you sure you want to know that?" He asked. I could almost hear his eyebrow raising-it was always the same one he lifted, on the left side of his face. I couldn't see it to confirm, but I'd bet dollars to donuts it was reaching for his hairline right about now.

"Yes and no, I guess. Was it something along the lines of what you did to Crystal?"

He smirked impishly. "Somewhat, yes, though not nearly as harsh. Desecrating our blood is a worse offense than dereliction of duty."

I drummed my fingers on my thigh, debating whether or not I should tell him that Debbie was a blood desecrator herself. On the one hand, it wasn't my job to tell him every little thing I heard. I had been complying so far, telling him what he wanted to know, but he hadn't said squat on this subject. He probably had no idea.

On the other hand, Godric had urged me to open myself more to Eric, and this would definitely fall under that category. I was still telling myself it was just to soften him up, but there was a teeny tiny bit of me that just...wanted him to know. That thought he deserved to know. With a sigh, I mustered all the courage I could.

"Eric...there's something you should know about Debbie." I could tell I instantly had his attention from the way his head swiveled in my direction. "Hey! Eyes on the road!" I waited until he complied with my screeched request before continuing. "She's a V addict, too. Well, not all the time-it comes and goes with her. I don't know any more than that, just that she's been a user before." I waited with baited breath for his response. He stayed quiet, to my surprise, and we pulled into the parking lot of a single-story brick building. Eric exited the car and I followed suit, still waiting for him to say something.

We were standing by our respective doors on either side of the car for a few moments before he finally opened his mouth. "Where did you learn this information, Miss Stackhouse?"

I was a little frightened at his tone, deadly and calm as it was. Belatedly, I realized Alcide might get into some trouble for withholding the information. I decided to cover for him,telling the truth while being as vague as possible with my answer. "I just overheard it." I tapped my temple to indicate I hadn't picked up on the tidbit with my ears.

Eric turned his gaze to me, catching me in the glacial depths. "Who did you overhear this from?"

I swallowed. "Debbie, when she was at the safe house." In a flash, he had disappeared from his side and trapped me against his car, my torso pressed into the door and his growls resounding in my ear. I could feel each cool exhale ruffling my hair. His arms were on either side of me, his marble-hard chest against my back.

"You keep forgetting, _sweetheart,_ that I can tell when you're lying. I grow weary of it."

I turned my head to glare at him. "Oh, you do, do you? Well, _I grow weary_ of you losing your temper with me over every little thing!" I jabbed an elbow back into him, doing more damage to myself, I'm sure. "It shouldn't matter how I got the information. You should be happy that I told you at all." I heard the creaking protest of metal, and I turned my head back around to see his dexterous fingers digging into the hood of his car. I felt his chest expand as he inhaled, mashing me slightly harder against the car door. He blew the breath out slowly, disturbing my hair again before he slowly moved away from me.

"Of course. I appreciate the information, Miss Stackhouse. Please, forgive my temporary loss of control." I sighed, deciding to take the apology at face value, smart-ass tone and all. I figured he didn't ask for forgiveness very often, so this must be a gigantic step for him. I nodded in response. "Come. Godric told you of our plans for basic self-defense training?" Eric was back to being all-business.

"He did, but he didn't elaborate on what that would involve."

"Unfortunately, nothing I can teach you will save you from a Vampire. Humans are so much weaker than we are that it would be futile to fight back-you would just end up hurting yourself worse." At this point, we'd reached the front door, which Eric unlocked and held open for me. It was pitch dark inside until he flipped several light switches. They came to life, one-by-one, until an empty space was illuminated before me. There were foam mats spread on the floor, a long balance beam pushed against one wall, wooden swords and other various weapons hung up on the other. Gloves, spare rolled-up mats, and other miscellaneous equipment was scattered against the wall across from the door. "However, the moves I will teach you might save you from a human attacker, should you come across any at the mansion."

My eyebrows furrowed. "Am I going to be going off on my own, then?"

"No!" Eric replied vehemently, looking slightly surprised at his own intensity before recovering. "No. It's just a precaution. Despite what you may think, we are preparing ourselves for every eventuality. We won't be running into this half-cocked."

I 'hmm'ed in response before stretching my arms above my head and lifting onto the tips of my toes, trying to get my joints a little looser in preparation for our little 'training session'. "What will I be learning?"

"Simple, basic moves. How to twist an attacker's hand to force them to drop their weapon, how to escape a hold, the best spots to strike, that sort of thing."

"Um, whose hold will I be escaping from?"

"Mine, of course," Eric replied, his voice like velvet and his grin sinful.

I snorted. "In those clothes? You'll rip the seat of your pants."

"Oh, I don't know about that. You'd be surprised at just how dexterous I am," His smile turned ever more wicked, but I pointedly ignored his double meaning.

"Whatever. Let's just get started so we can get this over with." I rolled my shoulders and walked forward into the middle of the room.

"As you wish. We're going to start easy," Eric said, striding over to the display of weapons. He grasped a wooden knife and strutted back over to me, flipping the knife through the air and catching it easily. "We'll begin with you learning the technique to disarm your attacker. It's most effective against short-range weapons like knives; only try disarming someone with a gun if you're within a few feet. Otherwise, you run the risk of being shot." I nodded to show I was paying attention, and he continued. "I'm going to mimic the action on you, gently of course, and then you'll use the move on me until I'm confident in your ability. Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," I quipped. Eric handed me the knife, adjusted my grip on it, and proceeded to twist my wrist just so. The pain that lanced up my arm had me gasping, my fingers reflexively opening. The wooden knife fell with a muffled thump to the mat.

"Jesus!" I exclaimed, trying to shake off the sting. Eric bent and retrieved the weapon.

"Are you ready to try it out?"

Flexing my fingers, I nodded. "Just talk me through it."

Eric took my hand, his cold fingers wrapping around mine as he placed them where he wanted on his wrist. He talked as he showed me, slowly, to make sure I got every movement down perfect. Granted, it didn't require a black belt to perform the simple tactic, but if it had the ability to save my life...needless to say, I wanted to have it down pat.

We practiced the move again and again, until finally Eric called a moratorium on it. "That'll do for now. We'll test you again later tonight, to make sure you can recall it. Once you've disarmed your opponent, there are certain spots on the body you should aim for."

"Like the groin?" I teased.

He smirked. "Think about groins often, do you?"

"Shut up," I flushed, "You know I didn't mean it like that."

Eric laughed, the rich sound reverberating in the room. "Of course. You are so easy to fluster, sweetheart. Yes, the groin is one, but there are others. We'll start from the head and work our way down the body." More blood rushed to my cheeks at his double entendre. I supposed I had invited it, and despite myself I found I was enjoying the banter. "We won't practice hitting these places. I don't want you to hurt yourself; I'm quite indestructible.

"First, the nose. The best way to break a nose is to strike your heel against the cartilage of the septum"-he placed the tip of his chilly index finger in the space between my nostrils briefly-"with all your might. With any luck, this will break the bone. Next is the vagus nerve. It's located right below the ear." His finger brushed across a spot on my neck, his eyes glued to his own actions. His nostrils flared just slightly as I shivered at the contact. "If you hit hard enough, you could possibly kill your opponent, or knock them unconscious. A weaker blow will cause intense pain.

"You can hit the solar plexus," Eric's hand drifted lower, towards my collar bone. He hesitated briefly before bringing his hand to his own chest, touching right under his pecs. "You can knock the wind from a human if you hit here."

I beat down the slight disappointment I felt when he pulled away, but consoled myself with the knowledge that it would have been too forward, even for Eric. I nodded for him to continue his lesson.

"There is always the groin, of course," His smirk was back in full force momentarily, before continuing. "Below that, the knee. Hit to the side," He crouched down and trailed his fingers on the outside of my left knee, his middle digit barely stroking the back of it. I swallowed thickly, trying to control my breathing. The gentle touching felt nice; distressingly, I felt myself wilting towards him slightly, both physically and emotionally. Eric's eyes flashed to my face, his eyelids at half-mast. I knew he could feel me; it felt like he could hear my every thought. Clearing my throat, I straightened my posture to be ramrod straight.

"Anywhere else?" I asked shakily. Too late, I realized it sounded a bit like an invitation. His expression turned darker for a moment, lust flitting through his gaze, before going back to his normal bored countenance.

"The inside of the foot." His fingers tapped the inside of my foot. "Smash your heel here, though this usually does less damage than the other hits. Your best bet will be striking into the nose, groin, or the knee." Eric rose from his crouch before taking a few steps back. I breathed a little easier now that he wasn't thickening the air with his intensity.

"An important part that is often overlooked is your battle cry. It's a psychological tool-it can strike fear into the hearts of your foes, or boost your own confidence, adding power to your attack. My people believed in this practice passionately. Perhaps it was part of the reason we were so feared and lived in infamy." His lips pulled back into a smile I hadn't seen before. It wasn't a smirk, his impish grin, or a fanged snarl. It was the kind of smile that only warm, happy memories can cause, and I smiled back at the thought he was sharing it with me. Much like with apologizing, I had the feeling he didn't dole it out very easily.

"How often did you have to use your 'battle cry'?" I asked. I wasn't sure what prompted the question, but found I couldn't pass up the opportunity to ask him something personal.

He frowned as he thought. "Not too often, before my family's slaughter. I became reckless in the years that followed. Then, I scarcely went a few weeks without running screaming into battle."

"That often?" Eric was fierce, sure, but that seemed like a lot of fighting to live through.

"Yes. Sometimes more, sometimes less." I could tell he was far away, perhaps recalling memories of swinging his sword, lopping off heads left and right like a big, bad warrior.

"Hard to believe you weren't cut down. You've got some real luck."

Eric's eyes came back into focus and his soft smile turned into another flirtatious leer. "Oh, I'm very good with my _sword_ , Miss Stackhouse. No luck needed." I wrinkled my nose, refusing to take his bait.

"Anything else you wanna teach me? You're burning...moonlight, I suppose."

He laughed again. "Yes. Simple grapples and how to escape them."

"Alright, well, let's get this over with."

The next hour was filled with Eric and I contorting ourselves into pretzels-he would grab me, his arms banded like steel around my sides, restraining my wrists, or pinning me down, and he would detail how to escape them. I wasn't always successful, partly because I had never been a very athletic person.

The other part, I knew, was being distracted by his body pressed against mine. Never had I been so close to someone, felt so much of another person at once. We rolled together, our limbs sliding and grasping in a strangely erotic dance. We may have been pretending to wrestle, but every touch was setting me on fire. At one point, one gigantic hand was clasped around both of my wrists, the other pushing my neck down. I could barely pay attention as he instructed me to kick my leg back and aim for his man-parts; even trying to concentrate on that particular step wasn't helping me concentrate. All I could see in my head was an image I'd gotten from Dawn once, of one of her lovers tying her in that exact same position. The pleasure she remembered from that coupled with my growing attraction to Eric had my insides twisted up in confusion and lust and a strange feeling of helplessness.

Thankfully, he didn't press that lesson too much. Maybe he felt as off-kilter as I did. The flesh between my thighs clenched as I wondered if he was imagining putting me in that kind of position, if he would enjoy it. I shook the thought off and thanked God I was already breathing heavily from the workout, otherwise my panting like a dog might have given me away.

 _Or,_ I thought, chagrined, _He already knows_. From the passion I could see building in his eyes, maybe we were building a sort of harmonic-both of our ill-gotten lust rebounding off of each other.

Once I successfully freed myself from one last hold-which included Eric banding his arms around my arms and waist then lifting me up, broken by building momentum with my legs and jamming my feet into the insides of his knees-Eric declared a stay of exercises. I flopped onto the mat gratefully, my skin shiny with sweat and my breathing ragged. He, of course, didn't sweat and didn't even need air except to talk, so it was just me, the out-of-shape human, dying on the ground.

"You did well, Sookie," He said, my name sounding foreign in his mouth. My eyes snapped open and a regarded him in surprise.

"Thank you." I replied softly. "Are we not going to do any telepathy work? What about trying the disarming thing again?"

"No," He answered. "You've been through enough for one night."

We stared at each other for another few seconds, staying quiet. Slowly, Eric reached his hand out towards me. I gratefully put my hand in his, his chilled palm cooling down my feverish one, and lifted myself off of the floor. We let go of each other and he turned, wordlessly, towards the door. I followed him out to the Corvette and slid in, luxuriating in the soft, buttery leather. I was going to need a nice, hot bath before bed.

I kept my eyes closed as he drove me back towards my house, the purr of the engine lulling me into a half-asleep state. The quiet between us seemed natural, normal, like grappling with each other for over an hour was a normal occurrence for us. The car came to a complete stop and the engine died, the keys clinking together softly. I heard the sound of denim on leather, a soft, dry sound, and I turned my head to look at Eric.

Our eyes met, an electric current passing between us that I wasn't too comfortable feeling. There had been too many intimate moments for my liking, and I had a feeling one more was on its way. The idea made my stomach plummet but my heart soar, which was an altogether disconcerting feeling, like a roller coaster about to drop after a steep climb. It was fitting, I supposed, for how much of a _roller coaster ride_ the last week had been.

"May I ask you a question, Sookie?" Eric's husky voice broke the silence. I was taken slightly aback; he'd never asked permission before prying into my life. I nodded at him mutely. "Why did you settle?"

"What do you mean?" I asked carefully, though I thought I had an idea what he was getting at.

"Why work for the Shifter? You're not unintelligent. You're physically attractive. You're a fighter, you have spirit. You can hear thoughts." He rattled off all of these qualities, our eyes still locked. "You could have done better in life. Why settle?"

"Why would being able to hear every single thought be an advantage to me? How could I have possibly benefitted from that? Having every little worry and nasty idea worm its way into my head doesn't make for an easy life, Eric," I was getting more worked up with every word, angry tears welling up. I didn't give myself a lot of time for pity parties, but the fact of the matter was, life had dealt me a pretty shitty hand. "Maybe if I'd been born the daughter of some rich couple, I could've afforded to find my niche in this world, some kind of private tutoring to finish my high school degree with decent grades or even just a damn computer to do night classes.

"As it is, we barely get by. I didn't _settle_ , I took what was available to me, and I'm pretty fucking good at being a waitress. It's not much, but it's what I have, and it's about the only thing I've ever been able to do worth a damn. There wasn't a whole lot of job offers coming my way, no matter how many places I applied, and I can't very well function in throngs of people. My shields just aren't strong enough, so I took the first job I was offered so I could help keep Gran above water.

"And now, I can't even do that, because I'm stuck in your Goddamn custody. She relied on my pay to keep the lights on and food on the table and I'm sc-scared what's gonna ha-happen to her-" I was absolutely horrified to be ugly crying, again, in front of him. I swiped the tears away from my cheeks angrily, trying to stop the trembling in my lips.

I didn't hear Eric exit the car or open my door, but suddenly there he was, pulling me from the low bucket seat. He held me quietly, for a miracle, and I leaned into him gratefully. My flash flood of tears didn't last long, thankfully, but I stayed where I was, clutching the black cotton of Eric's shirt as his big, cold hands rubbed small circles around my back.

Once I got myself back under control, I started to pull away. I was embarrassed, humiliated really, and I just wanted to crawl in bed and sleep the shame away. Eric had other ideas; one of his hands gripped my jaw gently, forcing me to face him. What I found on his face wasn't pity or disgust. Instead, I found a gentleness I didn't know he was capable of showing. There was strength, too, and a little bit of determination.

"You can _always_ push to be better, do better for yourself. Only you can limit yourself; Sookie, if you let this world put you in the place it thinks you belong, you'll never leave that niche. You did settle; you got comfortable at the Shifter's bar, refusing to expand your horizons. Nothing worth having comes easy. I would know." Eric closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against mine; my own eyelids fluttered down as I leaned into the unexpected, yet tender, gesture.

"I am sorry you fret for your Gran. I am sorry life has dealt you a tough hand, but your hardships have morphed you into this person standing before me. If you can sass a one thousand year old killer, you can face anything." I felt him pull away before his lips pressed a lukewarm kiss where our foreheads had been touching. I opened my eyes as he stepped away from me fully. "Go inside, Sookie. I'll return tomorrow night."

"Okay," My voice was appallingly hoarse, and I cleared my throat for about the millionth time that day. "Okay. Goodnight, Eric." Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked into the house, feeling all over the place. I needed a bath.


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I own nothing, just the plot.

A/N: A huuuuge thank you to Asrailefay for all her magnificent help! She's the bomb. Leave a review, please!

* * *

Previously:

 _"I am sorry you fret for your Gran. I am sorry life has dealt you a tough hand, but your hardships have morphed you into this person standing before me. If you can sass a one thousand year old killer, you can face anything." I felt him pull away before his lips pressed a lukewarm kiss where our foreheads had been touching. I opened my eyes as he stepped away from me fully. "Go inside, Sookie. I'll return tomorrow night."_

 _"Okay," My voice was appallingly hoarse, and I cleared my throat for about the millionth time that day. "Okay. Goodnight, Eric." Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked into the house, feeling all over the place. I needed a bath._

* * *

Baths had always been my favorite way to relax; steaming hot water, a good book, a few bubbles...it was my own personal Heaven. I did some of my best thinking in the bathtub, and after a long shift at Merlotte's, it was the perfect way to ease the tension from my feet and calves. The safe house was lacking in bubble bath liquid, unfortunately, but I figured the mechanics would still work the same.

A groan slipped past my lips as I lowered myself into the water, welcoming the slight sting from the heat. I paused every few seconds to let my skin adjust to the temperature until I was fully submerged. I knew I would be sore tomorrow from the workout I'd gotten tonight and was hoping the bath would mitigate the effects.

I was also hoping the soothing environment would help me work through...whatever had happened between Eric and I tonight.

His parting words had made me feel simultaneously good-squiggly and bad-squiggly. I was warm and mushy knowing Eric thought highly of me, both for my 'fighter's spirit' and my 'physical attractiveness'. I know that I'm no Plain Jane, but I still hadn't expected him to find me pretty. And knowing he appreciated my personality, that he didn't think I was some backwater idiot, made my sinuses tingle a little bit the way they usually do before I start crying. There's just something nice about a handsome man liking you for who you are.

On the other hand, I felt a little shame-faced for being called on my shit. I didn't want to admit it to myself, much less Eric, but of course I had settled. I had wanted to do more, see more, _be_ more. I'd wanted a prom date, a husband, kids, a nice house with a picket fence; all of it, I had craved desperately. It had just felt impossible, thanks to my little disability. It was a pipe dream, forever out of my reach. How could I ever have a normal marriage or family if I could hear my partner's thoughts?

An epiphany hit me so hard, I could almost feel the blow to the back of my head. I just sat there for a minute, dumbstruck. The realization had scattered all my rational thought and I could hear the blood rushing in my ears as my heart pumped furiously.

 _I can't._

I can't have a normal life, because _I am not normal._ I am not a normal person, I am a telepath. I'm a little weird, but for the first time in my life I realized that didn't have to be such a bad thing. Not when I wasn't the only outcast of society.

Sam, apparently, can just turn into any animal (I still planned to box his ears the next time I saw him). Alcide is a giant wolf. Eric, Pam, and Godric are Vampires. This world isn't filled with 6,999,999,999 normal people and 1 mind-reader. It's diverse, filled with God-only-knows-what. I found myself strangely comforted by the thought, and a little bit of the loneliness I bore day-to-day lifted from my weary shoulders.

For the first time in my entire life, I knew for a fact I wasn't just some weird off-shoot of humanity or the result of wonky genes. I'm certainly unusual; I might even be singular, as Godric had said. But there was a strange comfort in knowing that while there may not be other telepaths, I wasn't the only anomalous being on the planet. I wasn't _completely_ alone. The possibility of being able to rely on someone for companionship was suddenly more than an unobtainable fantasy.

Closing my eyes, I pinched the bridge of my nose and controlled my breathing, willing the tears pricking my eyes to dissipate. I was sick to death of crying, even if it was from relief instead of despair for once.

A strange sense of calm flooded my heart. It felt a little too good to be true, that I could live my life with someone. I could theoretically even be able to have sex one day; now that I knew there were people out there who had minds I couldn't penetrate, it seemed to me that there was a whole new pool of men open to me. I could have a partner in life, someone I could always depend on. A person I could choose to be with, and who would choose to be with me, whose thoughts wouldn't intrude on my own. Someone to hold me at night and tell me I mattered.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and thought back to my conversation with Godric. Maybe Eric could be that person. Maybe one day, once I was home and free and not under his thumb, we could navigate our way out of this weird limbo we'd unwittingly fallen into. As much as I wanted to try, I just didn't know if I could open myself to someone with so much power over me, despite promising Godric I would try. It was a Catch-22, really; Godric thought Eric would release me if I opened myself up to him, but I knew I would need to be Eric's true equal to really let him in.

There was, however, something to be said for having a soft spot in your heart for someone who pushed you to be better, who believed you could be more. Most people had thought I was lucky to graduate high school, that I should be grateful Sam had hired me as a barmaid.

 _Good for her_ -that was the line most people recited in their heads when they thought about me at all. It was the same as saying 'Bless your heart', an insult wrapped in a sugar-sweet tone, as Southerners are wont to do. _Good for her, slinging beers and delivering chicken baskets. Good on Sam for hiring her._

Eric was having none of that.

Just knowing he had faith in me, that I could expand and grow and be more than I was, endeared him to me all the more. There was a warm little ember glowing and growing and pulsing in my heart thanks to that faith. Maybe I could do better.

Out of nowhere, it felt like the adrenaline left my body all at once. The day had been long and draining, both mentally and physically. I was suddenly exhausted and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed. I pulled the stopper from the tub and stepped out, drying off quickly. I would take a shower in the morning and properly wash the sweat away. For now, I barely had time to pull the covers back and crawl into bed before I was out like a light.

* * *

Pam was waiting for me in my office when I arrived back at the warehouse. She looked up at me, one eyebrow lifted as her hand manipulated the mouse at inhuman speeds. Shopping, probably, and no doubt with my credit card.

"Well, well," She drawled mockingly, "Look what the cat dragged in."

I slouched into the chair across from her, not bothering to answer. Against my better judgement, I was _brooding_. Fuck.

"How was the _training_?" Pam had moved her attention back to the computer screen, still rapidly moving the mouse. I grimaced, annoyed, before deliberately tuning the swift _clickclickclickclickclick_ into the background.

"It was...interesting." I was glowering at the dark wood of the desk, turning over the conversation between Sookie and I. The entire episode left me feeling...uneasy, restless. And, perhaps, a slight bit guilty. I generally kept the blood tie connecting my Sookie to me open, to monitor her-and, perhaps, just because I enjoyed the feeling. Just admitting that, even to myself, was like ripping my fangs from their sockets. I was loath to do it. Still, it helped me to understand her, keeping myself aware of how she felt. My finger tapped against the armrest as I mulled over the evening.

 _First things first,_ I thought grimly.

"Pamela," I began, before I could change my mind, "Look into how to supplement a Social Security income. Monthly stipends, preferably, in an unassuming way. This will be your priority." Silence greeted me, not even the incessant tapping of that damn mouse breaking the sudden hush. I turned my eyes up to find Pam looking at me shrewdly.

"And who, pray tell, are we supplementing?" My Child was clever; I was certain she had figured out what I was up to. I narrowed my eyes at her, refusing to take her bait. "Oh, for fuck's sake, Eric! That old bat isn't your problem!"

"Pam," I ground out, "This isn't up for debate. You will do as I say."

She snorted derisively. "This is just rich. Since when do you care about the livelihoods of old women?"

" _Pamela._ " My fangs snapped down, the arm of the chair creaking in protest against my death grip. Pam lowered her head in submission.

"I only worry for you, Eric," She uttered contritely. A soft ' _snick_ ' rent the air as my fangs retracted into my gums, pleased by the remorse and capitulation thrumming in our bond. "You have been...erratic." My fingers uncurled from the armrest, divots left in the wood as if it were made of butter. I stood and walked around the desk, pulling Pam to her feet to press my lips to her forehead.

"I appreciate your concern, but it is unwarranted," I murmured into her cool skin, before pulling back to look at her. My hands cupped her face in reassurance; Pam and I were both tactile creatures by nature, and we found equal comfort in the contact. "I've thrived for this long, yes?"

Pam covered my hands with her own, her eyes beseeching. "Yes, but in all our decades together, I've never felt you like this. It's unsettling."

The ghost of a smile flitted across my face. "I agree. It's quite unsettling."

"You care for her." She said it plainly, without accusation or jealousy. I could only nod in response, unable to refute it. I hid nothing from my Child, nor she from me. We were bare to each other, as a Maker and Child should be.

As I was with Godric.

As I wished to be with Sookie.

 _One day, perhaps_ , I told myself.

"I want her," I nearly whispered, forcing the words past the pride lodged in my throat. Uttering those words out loud released a pressure valve somewhere within me; it was almost cathartic to admit it. I wanted her, every bit of her. I _yearned_ for her to be mine. _Mineminemine_ ; it was a chant in my brain, a constant hymn echoing through all of the vacant places inside of me that had been empty for centuries.

I pulled away from Pam, reclaiming my seat. The tips of my fingers settled into the hollows they'd gouged into the wood. Pam lowered herself gracefully, our eyes locked. "Sookie's grandmother relies- _relied_ -on Sookie's income to make ends meet. That weighs heavily on her, and I find myself...displeased by this. I have the means and inclination to fix the problem."

"Not to mention it will soften her to you." One pale eyebrow quirked upwards as she replied, a knowing smirk twisting her ruby-painted lips. I couldn't refute it. I found, to my surprise, that I didn't want to.

So I simply nodded in response.

"When are we infiltrating?"

"A few more days, perhaps a week at most," I answered. "Sookie did well tonight; we still need to test her telepathy, see exactly how it works, if she can stretch her abilities."

Pam clicked her tongue. "A shame you're still against having her do the day-time investigation."

A low growl built in my chest at the thought. "We've discussed this, Pamela. Don't make me cancel that credit card you're trying to max out."

"Oh, please," She harrumphed, "We both know I couldn't max this puppy out. Besides, what's the point of bringing her if she's not going to contribute to the war effort?"

"She will contribute. But I'll not put her in any more danger than necessary."

"And what will you do during the day to keep her safe? Bring the wolf along?" Though I could tell Pam was simply teasing me, my proverbial hackles were raised; jealousy surged in my veins at the thought of the fucking _dog_ keeping her safe during the day when I couldn't.

No.

It was unacceptable.

"She will stay with me." The words barely cleared my teeth, they were clenched so tightly. My fangs were tingling, begging to descend and tear through flesh to sate my burgeoning bloodthirst. I was jealous, against my better judgement.

 _No one will keep her safer than I._

"Eric!" The reprimand in my _Child's_ tone was enough to make my rage grow. Every tendon in my body was instantly tense, straining to keep myself in check. I hadn't struck Pamela in over a century, but she was testing my patience.

"Pamela," I snarled, "You forget who is the Maker in this relationship. It would behoove you to remind yourself which of us commands the other."

"I understand, Eric, but to think of _sharing your resting place…_ " I felt her frustration morph suddenly into anger. "You don't know her! You can't _trust_ her! For fuck's sake, Eric, you're going to get yourself kil-"

Her tirade was cut off abruptly as I reached my limit; I could simply bear no more. I hadn't fucked or fed properly since meeting my Sookie, I was awash with guilt- _I, an ancient Vampire, feeling guilt-_ and Pamela insinuating Sookiwould kill me…

 _No._

I had my hands around her throat, gripping tight. The beast in me delighted in the fear and shock warring in Pam's eyes, my flagging self-esteem bolstered with the physical evidence that I wasn't as soft as Pam thought.

"I have had _enough_ , Pam. You seem to have forgotten your place in the hierarchy." My fingers squeezed slightly, eliciting a strangled protest of pain from her throat. I relaxed them again, still keeping my grip firm. "Tell me, who is the Master?"

"You are," Pam whispered, tendrils of fear curling through our bond, the rabid animal caged inside of me pleased by her reaction, though not relishing having to discipline my Progeny.

" _WHO IS YOUR MASTER?"_ I snarled, bringing her face closer to mine.

"You are my Master!" She cried, her voice awash with pain, her neck and pride both hurting.

"Yes," My voice was a deadly hiss, venom in each syllable. "I am your Master. I give the orders. I make the plans. _You fucking follow._ If you step out of line again, you will regret it. You know what I am capable of, yes?" Pam nodded minutely, her eyes downcast in submission. "Find a way to supplement Sookie's grandmother's income. You will do this tonight, the moment I leave. You will not question me again. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Master," Pam whispered. I released her abruptly, satisfied by her answer. My limbs were trembling with rage, my hunger was great, my cock was hard. I'd endured too much teasing this night; the combination of Pam's mocking words and having Sookie gliding against me as we grappled had me starving for sex and blood. I needed a release, but I knew I wouldn't find it in the hole of any whore I could pick up at a bar. I would have to settle for a cuddle, I mused.

I made my way to the safe house, quickly and with single-minded interest, dismissing the Vampire I'd stationed as a guard with a flick of my wrist before I landed on the front porch. I wasted no time in making my way to the master bedroom, to my Sookie, only to find her curled up on the bed, warm and soft and asleep. I could see her bare shoulders over the edge of the blanket, and my dick throbbed at the knowledge she was naked and _so close_.

It was tempting, so tempting, to pull the cover back oh-so-slowly, revealing her golden skin inch by inch. Her collar bones, the swell of her breasts, her nipples, pert and pink...the line of her hips pointing me to her pussy; it would be sweet and warm and delicious, I knew. I wanted to devour her, feast on all she had to offer, alleviate every hunger with her body.

I closed my eyes tight, breathing in deep. No, I wanted her awake and yielding when I took her, when she gave herself to me. My Sookie deserved more than a quick fuck designed for relief. Still…

Her sweet scent clogged in my sinuses, tantalizing my olfactory senses. I could feel myself calming, the rage ebbing just from breathing her in. The quaking in my muscles lessened and, for the second time in as many days, I removed my shoes and jacket and climbed in bed with Sookie.

I stayed on top of the bedclothes, taking care to keep Sookie covered. The first time I saw her naked—and that time _would_ come-it would be deliberate on both our parts. My arms wrapped around her warm little body and pulled her into me, the curve of her back molding seamlessly into my torso. I matched my breathing to hers, deep and even and rhythmic. The gnawing in my stomach and groin didn't go away, nor did they lessen. I still wanted to be inside of her desperately. But just holding her like this, surrounded by her smell and surrounding her with my presence, made the idea of waiting for her... _tolerable_. I could be patient.

My eyes closed. I was saturated in bliss.

Eventually, my fingers started tracing lightly on her arm, the silky flesh pebbling under my cold touch. Her warmth was seeping into me. I relished it. After a few passes, I could feel her start to rouse. My eyes snapped open, but I didn't move. I found I wanted her to know I was here, holding her, comforted by her. I wanted her to know she soothed me.

"Eric?" Sookie whispered, tentatively. My arms flexed, drawing her closer.

"Yes." I murmured back, my fingers still dragging across her arm gently.

"What are you doing here?"

She didn't sound angry, which was a good sign. I will admit to a small amount of fear, that she would be upset or reject me. Confusion was preferable to anger.

"Holding you, obviously," I quipped. She snorted.

"You know what I mean." Sookie had scarcely finished talking before a yawn overtook her, her body arching against mine as she stretched. Her ass pushed against my cock, unwittingly rubbing the stiff flesh. I grunted, my hands flashing to her hips. I meant to still her, keep her tantalizing movements from pushing me further. Instead I found myself mashing her against my hardness, holding her in place against me tight as I tried to clear the haze of lust clouding my eyes. The smell of her own faint arousal wasn't helping the matter. It was heady, infiltrating my nose and thundering straight to my loins. I felt myself throb against her backside and her sharp inhale as she felt it.

"Eric…" She whispered.

"Don't move, Sookie," I warned her, my voice low and rampant with desire. I was barely holding myself in check. "Please." Sookie, being ever the obstinate creature, turned in my arms to face me. I could see the craving on her face, the same hunger I was sure she was seeing on mine. " _Sookie._ "

Instead of answering, she leaned forward slowly, keeping her eyes locked on mine. Her lips touched mine ever-so-gently, the pressure barely registering. She was _so warm_. I groaned, slamming my eyes shut as I pulled us closer and captured her lips fully. I felt her exhale through her nose, her warm breath sweeping across my skin. My hand came up to cradle her face, keeping her in place even as she responded eagerly. Small, deft hands trailed down my throat, running over my shoulders and gripping my biceps. She moaned into my mouth as our lips worked against each other, licking and nipping.

I rolled her under me, crushing my groin to hers through the blanket, searching for friction. Her hips rolled in response as she whimpered.

"You're driving me crazy," I grasped as I trailed heated kisses down her throat. She moaned as I bit her gently, my blunt human teeth scraping against her jugular. Our hips rolled again, moving together fluidly, endlessly. I could almost hear the rush of wetness between her legs, the scent of her juices permeating through the fabric of the bedclothes as her arousal increased. She whimpered my name again, her nails taking against my scalp. Her fingers tangled in the strands of my hair, tugging as her hips rose and fell again and again, pushing her center against my twitching cock.

My fangs snapped down without my consent, nicking a small cut in the skin of Sookie's throat. The smell of her blood instantly enveloped me, sweeter than anything I could remember. My tongue darted out, lapping at the small bead of blood. Her flavor burst into my mouth, the tiniest drop of her life force finding its way into every crevice. I was instantly addicted.

"Mmm….more…" I gasped, licking futilely at the little cut, frustrated at the lack of fluid but unwilling to bite without her permission.

To my utter surprise, her hands turned soft, almost reverent, cupping my head to her neck. "Do you want to…" She trailed off, hesitancy leaking through our weak blood tie. I nodded, panting desperately against her, still laving her skin with my tongue while keeping my fangs from piercing her again on accident.

I felt her throat work as she swallowed, her chest pushing against mine as she breathed. The blanket was slipping dangerously low, the barest dusky pink of her areola beginning to crest over the duvet. "You can, if you want."

Fuck, but she was bold. Not a hint of fear as she said it, just the same trepidation. I didn't think she was hesitant about feeding me; if she was, my headstrong Sookie wouldn't have offered. Perhaps she was wary I'd reject her as the world had, over and over.

 _I'd never hurt her the way the small people of Bon Temps did._

My tonguing became more insistent as I coaxed her jugular into sharper relief. When I was satisfied with my target, I waited for a moment before slicing through her soft flesh with my fangs. Immediately, Sookie cried out in pleasure, her pelvis snapping up, the heat of her pussy nearly melting through the fabric to get to me. I snarled as my manhood throbbed and twitched, aching to bury myself in her depths and fill her with my cum. My hips rutted back against her, searching for friction to bring us both off.

Horrifyingly, I could feel my orgasm approaching. Whether from being in a dry spell, or the exhilarating taste of my Sookie's blood, or because I was just that far fucking gone, I knew my (rather impressive) stamina wouldn't help me here. I could feel that Sookie was bearing her own peak, which gave me some comfort. At least I wouldn't be the only one cumming from dry humping.

I drank slowly, sipping her essence like the finest of wines, hunting down every drop spewing forth with my tongue. The bloodthirst that had been flourishing lately was slowly abating, satiated by her. I was moaning like a whore against her flesh as she whimpered into my hair. I could hear the slick flesh of her pussy as she grew more wet. She was on the precipice of orgasm; all she needed was a small push. I decided to give it to her.

My hand crept under the blanket, lightly grasping her leg. I waited, letting her decide if she wanted me to stop. A strangled nose erupted from her throat; I could feel the vibration against my cheek as I continued to slip slowly from her neck. Her legs splayed open wider, letting the aroma of her sex escape into the air. Growling in approval, my thumb moved quickly to her straining clit, thrumming across the bundle of nerves at Vampire speed, and she was screaming in ecstasy mere seconds later. A rush of hot moisture flowed from her honeyed opening a she arched, keening my name in the throes of her orgasm. My thumb didn't stop moving as my fingers curled up to stroke deftly through her folds. She was so drenched my digits were nearly skating across her blood-plump petals. I was on the edge of my own orgasm, desperately clinging onto the cliff of bliss to prolong this exquisite torture. Sookie, however, had other ideas.

The intensity of my fingers against her pussy proved to be too much. She bit down on my shoulder, whimpering, her hips jerking against my hand. Harder and harder her teeth dug as she sobbed against my skin euphorically. I grunted at the feel; as a rule, Vampires enjoy biting. It is in our nature. I especially loved it, and when Sookie's little teeth broke my skin and sucked on the wound, even as I was still sipping languorously from her, I couldn't keep my climax at bay any longer. My load shot thick and cool against the denim of my pants, my dick still rock hard as I rode the aftereffects.

Slowly, I became aware of our tie changing, morphing within me. I withdrew from her neck, gently cleaning the tiny wounds left in my wake. There wasn't a drop of blood left when I rose to my elbows above her, gazing at her, still lost in a post-orgasmic haze.

 _Min raring_ , I mused fondly, feeling her contentment stronger than ever.

Sookie's cheeks were flushed, her eyes closed, her parted lips trembling. Her lids lifted just barely, enough for our eyes to meet. Slowly, I brought my fingers to my mouth and licked her cum from my fingers, sucking the tips for every trace of her liquid. She blushed, embarrassment leaking into our weak bond.

I'd have to explain that to her, soon. But not tonight. I had pushed enough boundaries tonight.

I kissed her forehead tenderly before moving back behind her. My cock was finally softening, and I wrinkled my nose at the feel of cum congealing against my shaft. I'd need a shower before sunrise. Ignoring it for the time being, I cuddled her close again, arranging the blanket to cover her modestl She shifted slightly, getting comfortable as her hands came to rest on my forearms.

We didn't say anything else. We simply _snuggled,_ basking in each other's presence, until she fell asleep.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: Sorry for the absence! I won't bore you with excuses-life got busy, my laptop died, etc. Sorry this is so short, but hopefully I'll have the next chapter up soon. :) To everyone who has stayed with me so far, thank you. I hope you enjoy the little bits of angst here, and I appreciate the kind reviews. I'll 'spare you the rant' this time. ;)

Oh, and one more thing, I know in a lot of stories Eric can smell that Sookie is a virgin or whatever. That's not the case in this universe; Eric is assuming Sookie has had sex before, as most women her age have at that point. Hopefully that bit clears up any kind of confusion you may get when you see his POV. Okay! Enough blabbering!

Disclaimer: I only own the plot.

* * *

Previously:

 _Min raring, I mused fondly, feeling her contentment stronger than ever._

 _Sookie's cheeks were flushed, her eyes closed, her parted lips trembling. Her lids lifted just barely, enough for our eyes to meet. Slowly, I brought my fingers to my mouth and licked her cum from my fingers, sucking the tips for every trace of her liquid. She blushed, embarrassment leaking into our weak bond._

 _I'd have to explain that to her, soon. But not tonight. I had pushed enough boundaries tonight._

 _I kissed her forehead tenderly before moving back behind her. My cock was finally softening, and I wrinkled my nose at the feel of cum congealing against my shaft. I'd need a shower before sunrise. Ignoring it for the time being, I cuddled her close again, arranging the blanket to cover her modestl She shifted slightly, getting comfortable as her hands came to rest on my forearms._

 _We didn't say anything else. We simply snuggled, basking in each other's presence, until she fell asleep._

* * *

The next morning, it took a few seconds for me to remember what had happened in the middle of the night-only this time, I knew instantly it hadn't been a dream.

 _Oh, good Lord._

I pulled the covers up over my head to hide my embarrassment—from the world, from God, from myself—and tried to figure out just what the hell I'd been thinking. Despite being a mid-twenties virgin, I knew a lot of people had morning-after regrets. I'd never experienced it myself, but a niggling feeling in my gut told me the remorse I was feeling wasn't spawned from the same place as Maudette Pickens after every fling she had to cover up her loneliness.

I didn't regret doing _that_ with Eric; I had wanted it, wanted _him_. My initiating the whole thing was vivid proof of my desire. The problem, I felt, was the imbalance in our current relationship. It was weird to get handsy with your kidnapper, no matter which way you spun it. His hands were certainly talented, and he kissed like a pro, but…it just felt like bad timing.

I rolled onto my side, sighing. When I promised Godric I'd try to open myself to Eric, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind. My emotions were a mess, and I felt like a massive idiot.

I reluctantly got out of bed to shower and start my day. Alcide had made a pot of coffee, bless his heart, despite it being close to lunch time. He wasn't in the house, so I assumed he was out doing a patrol in wolf form. I made my way to the back porch to enjoy my first cup of coffee and wait for him to get back.

Alcide returned shortly after, and I barely remembered to avert my eyes when he changed from wolf to human. We said our greetings with my eyes shut, until he told me he was decent. I opened my eyes to find him looking at me strangely.

"What?" I asked, sipping my cooling coffee.

"You smell more like Northman. He slip you more of his blood?"

I flushed. "Not exactly. It was…more of an accident."

"An acci-Sookie." His gaze turned reproachful, and my guard went up instantly.

"What?" I said again.

"Did you and he…" Alcide cleared his throat. "You sleep with him?"

"No!" I replied, my tone sharper than I intended. "No. I didn't. And even if I had, it wouldn't really be any of your business, now would it?"

He had the good grace to blush before he answered. "Sorry, sorry. You're right. It's just, he's your enemy, Sook. Don't go fraternizing with your enemies."

I lifted an eyebrow. "Speaking of my enemies, you ever find Debbie?"

Alcide blew out a breath before sitting down heavily in the chair next to mine. "No, we ain't seen her. We've got a BOLO issued to the pack, but we're not actively searchin' for her yet."

"Any idea where she would've went?" Alcide's lips pursed, his face tense and giving away nothing. I sighed and leaned back, deciding now was as good a time as any to come clean. Besides, I was tired of sifting through his snarly red brain for useful information. Maybe then he'd just come clean about his crazy ex's blood addiction.

"Alcide," I began gently, "I…have something to tell you."

"I'm listenin'."

I cleared my throat. "You know how you're a little different? And Eric, and Godric, and Debbie?"

He snorted. "Yeah, Sook, I'm well aware that we're all _a little different_."

"Well, I'm kind of different, too. I'm not a Were or Vampire or anything, I just…have a little quirk. I can hear people's thoughts." It was still very strange, saying that out loud; I doubted I would ever get used to it. A lifetime of pretending to be normal, and here I was, strangely okay with admitting my deepest secret. I glanced at him nervously before going back to what remained of my coffee. I would need a refill soon.

Alcide didn't say anything for a while. Eventually, I turned my eyes back to him to find him just staring at me.

"I know there's a lot of strange shit in this world, but I ain't never met a mind-reader. You can really hear thoughts?" I nodded mutely. "What am I thinkin' right now?"

I laughed. "You're thinkin' about how you really like Chipotle, the restaurant, but you don't want people thinkin' you're a hipster douche." His cheeks grew ruddy in embarrassment. "Don't worry, Al. I can't hear you too well most of the time. Mostly, you're just a hazy brain."

He harrumphed. "Good to know. Is that why you're here instead of your brother?"

I sighed. "Yeah, unfortunately. My brother isn't exactly the most loyal of guys, and he got himself a pass to freedom by giving me up, first chance he got. Jase told Eric he had a telepathic sister, told him where I worked, where I lived—and here I am. Blood ain't everything, I guess."

Alcide winced. "Sorry 'bout that, Sook. Family is important." I snorted derisively. "Why you tellin' me this now? Not that I'm complainin', and I do appreciate you trustin' me enough to tell me, but…why?"

I shrugged. "I know your secret, now you know mine. Plus…I sort of saw, in your head, Debbie drinking blood. And…I told Eric, that she was doing that."

"Sookie, _please_ tell me you're joking!" Alcide's eyes were huge, his mouth agape. I felt a twinge of pity for him.

"Alcide, come on, he deserved to know!"

"What in the ever-loving Hell made you think he deserved to know?!" He stood up and started pacing the small patio, his hands raking through his dark, curly hair.

"Uh, are you serious? Why wouldn't he deserve to know?" Alcide stopped in his tracks and turned to look at me.

"Sookie," He started, "He could kill her. That's a serious offense, he would be within his rights. I could be punished, too, for keeping it a secret!"

I huffed. "Alcide. She's a big girl. She knew what she was doing when she drank that blood, and I didn't tell Eric that I heard it from you!"

"So, it's just impossible that he'd trace it back to me? I'm the only one you spend any time with, Sookie, or did you forget that while you were busy fuckin' your bloodsucker?"

Instantly, I could tell he knew he had made a big mistake. The silence following his little outburst was thick with anger, both his and mine, and I was lost for words. We just glared at each other for a few seconds until I decided I'd had enough.

"Well, Alcide, I thank you for your honest opinion. I'm gonna head on in and make _myself_ some lunch, and you can just sit outside or in your truck until it's time for you to leave. Bye now." I was pretty proud of how measured my voice was; not a single word shook. I stood and went inside, shutting the sliding door firmly behind me.

I sighed as I refilled my coffee mug, wishing that had gone differently. And, truth be told, a little hurt by his words. Alcide truly believed I hadn't had sex with Eric; I had gotten that much from his mind. He was just angry enough to want to hurt my feelings, and he'd done a fairly good job. I made the executive decision to ignore it as best I could. I made myself lunch, not bothering to offer Alcide any (his mental signature told me he was still sitting on the back porch) and spent the next few hours reading.

My anxiety was ratcheting up the closer sunset got; this seemed to be a recurring theme with me. Part of me just wanted to get this night over with, as I knew we'd be 'testing' my telepathy, and that sounded just plain tiring. The other part was anxious to see Eric, and a little hesitant how things would go after last night. I expected nothing but awkwardness, truth be told, particularly on my end. I doubted Eric ever felt anything less than confident.

Although, I suppose Eric _was_ human once, which meant he'd been a graceless teenager at some point, just like everyone else. I giggled at the thought of a lanky, gawky teenage Eric running around Viking-era Scandinavia. I wondered if he had bad eye sight as a human; if he'd been born in this century, would he need glasses? Would he be married, have kids? What would he do for a living? I was suddenly curious if his personality had changed much over his long life. Surely bits of him had changed, but how much of Human Eric was still there, underneath the hardened Vampire Sheriff? How much of Eric had I really seen?

I knew he had shown me bits of the _real_ Eric. His softer moments—sharing his family's demise with me, the way his eyes grew warmer sometimes, not to mention last night…the memory of it had my internal thermostat ratcheting up, making my cheeks flush, the space between my legs starting to pulse. I took a deep breath and tried to will away my arousal. I had almost succeeded in losing myself back in the story of my trashy romance novel— _and definitely not imagining a certain tall, blonde-haired man as the hero—_ when Eric's voice cut through the silence.

"Good evening, sweetheart."

My eyes snapped up to find him standing just inside the living room, his face completely inscrutable. Annoyingly, my heart sank just a little. Somewhere along the line, I had associated the English version of his endearment with the biting wit of Sheriff Northman. The Swedish version, _raring_ , I had only heard twice, and in the same conversation, at that. Still, I linked _raring_ to Eric, the man behind the authority.

I suppose I had expected a little more openness after last night; less of a guarded look in his eyes, a softer set to his mouth, maybe. Something sweet to let me know last night wasn't as big of a mistake as I thought it might be. Instead, it seemed Sheriff Northman had, indeed, come out tonight, and suddenly I was feeling a whole lot more remorse for what we had done the night before.

Eric's face grew stonier the longer I sat there, lost in my own morose thoughts. It took me a minute to gather my wits about me and reply, "Hey." Everything felt awkward, so, so, _so_ weird. I fought back a grimace and got to my feet.

"Are we still doing the telepathy thing tonight?"

Eric's lips thinned before he replied. "Yes. Get your shoes on and let's go."

I sighed as I watched him walk out of the house, a bee clearly buzzing in his bonnet. I didn't know what to do, or say, or even what had gotten him so uptight. It had been barely five minutes and we were already at odds with each other.

Definitely not how I had expected things to go.

* * *

I'd stayed as long as I could that night, allowing myself to enjoy the warmth from Sookie's body. The curve of her spine fit me precisely, the perfect little spoon. I marveled at our new, weak bond, rolling her stronger emotions around in my mouth like a human child with candy. The complete contentment she felt as she slept cradled in my arms amazed me. I'd committed my share of wrongs against my Sookie, all of which I was coming to regret. Ranging from the smaller offenses—pinning her against the car earlier that night, for example—to the larger ones—abducting her in the first place—I was slowly starting to question everything.

I shouldn't keep her. _Min raring_ was a caged bird here, her wings clipped so she couldn't fly away. It had been an advantageous move to let her useless brother go in exchange for her talent. Only a fool would have passed it up, and quite frankly, if I didn't harbor…feelings…for Sookie, I doubt that I would feel any confliction on the subject. Keeping her felt wrong, but the beast in me snarled viciously at the idea of letting her go.

Of letting her leave me.

I had left reluctantly, ignoring the pull of the sun for as long as I was able. My own home wasn't very far from the safehouse, nestled deep in the woods. Unbidden, the idea of bringing her there had teased at my brain as I settled into my own empty bed. The thought was pleasing before it was shoved away harshly; I hadn't shared my resting place with anyone outside of Godric's bloodline in my entire existence. I shouldn't have even been considering it.

With a sigh, I had let the sun pull me into darkness.

I woke from my day death the next evening to mounting anxiety. Sookie's emotions were flooding into me, throwing me off-balance. What was she doing that made her so apprehensive? Perhaps she was worried about testing her telepathy. It wouldn't be too strenuous; simply seeing how it worked, if she could follow a trail of thoughts, if she could sift through memories, how many she could handle at once. I had neglected to tell her what tonight would entail, but surely she wasn't nervous about that?

I froze in the middle of getting dressed, my jeans only partially fastened. Was she regretting last night? Did her apprehension stem from remorse? Surely not. Sookie had enjoyed last night. She'd initiated things, at least partially. I had made sure she was left satisfied. No one had morning-after misgivings with me.

Scowling, I pulled on a t-shirt, followed by my jacket. Why would she regret our actions? We had both been sated. She had responded to every touch, every kiss. Sookie had started it! A growl rumbled through my chest. I felt like a petulant child. I, an ancient Vampire, made to feel like a toddler. It was unthinkable.

I took to the sky and flew slowly towards the safehouse, letting my anger dissipate into the chill of the wind. Sookie's anxiety could be from anything. Perhaps it was completely unrelated to last night. I would have to wait and see, I decided. I would follow her lead on this. It was likely _min raring_ had more experience in this arena. The idea of her waking in another man's bed after a night of passion had my fangs dropping in jealousy, slicing my lip. I licked away the beads of blood that welled up, swallowing them along with my envy. I wasn't a virgin when I met Sookie; I couldn't expect the same from her. I _shouldn't_ expect the same from her. It was none of my business.

I landed lightly on the front porch and tried to collect myself before I entered. My normally steely nerves were frazzled. My lungs filled with an unnecessary breath, letting my senses calm before I opened the door.

Sookie was curled on the couch reading when I found her, either unaware of or ignoring my presence. I drank her in for a moment, letting her mouthwatering scent swirl in my nose before I spoke.

"Good evening, sweetheart." My tone was sharper than I had intended, too much sarcasm laced in the words. I knew it was from being _nervous_ , an emotion was I truly unfamiliar with. It was fucking annoying. I watched her expression, keeping my own as blank as possible. Perhaps the lack of smugness would invite her to feel more relaxed.

Instead, it seemed to close her off more. I could feel her emotions sinking, remorse coursing through her and feeding into me. It seemed she _was_ regretting last night. How fucking lovely. My temper was rising, and I allowed the anger to wash out my disappointment. The irritation wrapped around me like black tar, hardening my heart and my face. I welcomed it, a shield against the pain I had stupidly allowed Sookie to be able to inflict on me.

She regretted it, regretted me. Rejection was not something I had experienced in centuries, and I found it was no friend of mine.

"Hey," She responded, after several minutes of tense silence. She stood, looking as out of place as I felt. "Are we still doing the telepathy thing tonight?"

My lips pressed together, keeping in a growl. So tonight would be all business, it seemed. My fingers itched to break something, my dismay turning into anger. Rage, I could handle; rejection, I found, was another matter.

"Yes. Get your shoes on and let's go." I turned and left through the front door, regretting not driving to the safehouse. A miscalculation on my part. I realized I had expected a more pliant Sookie, one who I would enjoy cradling against me. Not this closed-off version, the one who didn't want me. I scowled at the moon, my hands fisted by my side. This was fucking absurd.

It was going to be a long night.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Hello! I hope you enjoy the chapter. Pleasepleaseplease review, I just love them and they make me want to write more!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

* * *

Previously:

 _"Good evening, sweetheart." My tone was sharper than I had intended, too much sarcasm laced in the words. I knew it was from being nervous, an emotion was I truly unfamiliar with. It was fucking annoying. I watched her expression, keeping my own as blank as possible. Perhaps the lack of smugness would invite her to feel more relaxed._

 _Instead, it seemed to close her off more. I could feel her emotions sinking, remorse coursing through her and feeding into me. It seemed she was regretting last night. How fucking lovely. My temper was rising, and I allowed the anger to wash out my disappointment. The irritation wrapped around me like black tar, hardening my heart and my face. I welcomed it, a shield against the pain I had stupidly allowed Sookie to be able to inflict on me._

 _She regretted it, regretted me. Rejection was not something I had experienced in centuries, and I found it was no friend of mine._

 _"Hey," She responded, after several minutes of tense silence. She stood, looking as out of place as I felt. "Are we still doing the telepathy thing tonight?"_

 _My lips pressed together, keeping in a growl. So tonight would be all business, it seemed. My fingers itched to break something, my dismay turning into anger. Rage, I could handle; rejection, I found, was another matter._

 _"Yes. Get your shoes on and let's go." I turned and left through the front door, regretting not driving to the safehouse. A miscalculation on my part. I realized I had expected a more pliant Sookie, one who I would enjoy cradling against me. Not this closed-off version, the one who didn't want me. I scowled at the moon, my hands fisted by my side. This was fucking absurd._

 _It was going to be a long night._

* * *

 _Well, this is awkward_.

I sat in the seat of Eric's Corvette, fidgeting and trying to ignore the loaded silence between us. Not a word had been spoken since we'd left the safehouse—I didn't even scream when he unceremoniously scooped me off the porch and flew us to a beautiful little cottage in the middle of the woods behind my prison. I had wondered if that was where he lived, or if he maybe just kept another hostage in there. Maybe he had a psychic locked in the basement.

Eric's Corvette was parked in the little driveway, and he had set me down next to it as if I were on fire. My ego was a little bruised at the fact he couldn't seem to get away from me fast enough. He had started the car, still silent, and zoomed out of the driveway, down a smooth, one-lane path, and onto the main road. The longer he drove without speaking, the more uncomfortable I felt. I watched the scenery pass me by, glaring morosely out of the window.

Last night was obviously a mistake. One big, fat, giant mistake and I was stupid enough to have let it happen. I sighed, wanting to ask him what the general plan for tonight was, but afraid to break the tension filling the space between us. I couldn't bear the thought of him calling me 'sweetheart' again so callously, not after the intimacy of last night. It was easier to wallow in silence.

Thankfully, I didn't have long to wait before we pulled into a parking lot. Looking around, I realized we were right by a strip of bars located in downtown Shreveport. My eyebrows rose. Surely to God we weren't going clubbing? I turned to look at Eric and maybe ask him 'What the fuck?' but he was studiously not looking at me. I huffed in annoyance and settled against the car door, staring out the window. If the Sheriff was going to ignore me, I had no problem doing the same to him.

Sighing again, softer this time, I relaxed into the void of Eric's mind. We'd only been sitting in the car for a few minutes, but already the multitude of brains were beating at my shields. I had been cut off from people for only a handful of days, and yet I could tell I was already out of practice at keeping invasive thoughts out. I let the firm, steely warmth of his brain envelop me, soothing the slight pounding already forming in my temples as the deluge of thoughts ebbed away.

To ignore the ocean of distance growing between us, I started people watching. Groups of tipsy partiers were flitting in and out of bars, laughing and flirting as their inhibitions slipped. A small pang of envy ran through me; drinking in groups was a big no-no for me, as being intoxicated greatly affected my ability to block out thoughts-not to mention the fact I didn't exactly have an extensive social support network to go partying with. I'd been drunk with Lafayette and his cousin—and my only other friend—Tara, but that had been at Lafayette's house, safely hidden from public view. My stomach gave a weird lurch as I realized I had barely thought of them since my abduction. As a matter of fact, I had barely given thought to Gran, either. My mood soured more as a deep sense of shame unfurled in my heart.

At some point in the last week—probably when Godric had planted the idea of humanizing Eric—I realized suddenly that I'd gotten sidetracked, big time. Instead of using my wits or actively looking for ways out, I'd been relying on, even anticipating, just being set free, something that would obviously never happen. Godric was wrong; Eric didn't give a shit about me. I had just been a quick meal last night, nothing more. He could call me sweet, Swedish pet names all night long, but that didn't change the fact that I had been played. Eric got his midnight snack and an orgasm; I'd even, stupidly, accidentally, bitten him in the throes of my own climax and drank more of his blood. Once again, I had underestimated Eric and his wiles. I was a fucking fool.

In my dogged quest to get back home to Bon Temps, I had forgotten all about everyone still there. I had barely given thought to Gran, on how she was doing. The shame in my heart leaked into my stomach and twisted my intestines. I was sick to my stomach on how little I'd considered how my disappearance was affecting everyone. I had cried in front of Eric about it, sure, but for the most part I hadn't been allowing myself to think about it.

 _No_ , I mused, _that's not strictly true. It wasn't about allowing myself to think on it, I just didn't want to_.

My chagrin only grew the longer I sat in that Corvette. Facing my problems was not one of my fortes, I realized. I actively avoided most of my problems, leaving them for another day; I was susceptible to tunnel vision, perhaps more so than most. I couldn't see the forest for the trees. I needed to get myself back on track.

The sound of a car door opening drew me from my internal beratement, and I looked over to see Eric unfolding his long limbs from the car. My hand moved to the handle of my own door, only for Eric to bark, "Stay!" before he slammed his door.

Flushing instantly with anger, I yelled back, "I'm not a dog, you dick!"

 _Yeah, Godric had definitely been wrong. Maybe he really was part of Eric's plot to break me down._ _Speak of the devil…_

Pam and Godric had climbed out of a car that had parked near us, the windows tinted so dark I couldn't see inside. The three Vampires stood near the back of the Corvette, talking among themselves. Fuming, I watched them conversing. Pam looked angry; Godric, curious; and I could only see the back of Eric's head, the ends of his hair brushing the collar of his leather jacket. My fingers drummed restlessly against the door, debating on just getting out of the car. Who did Eric think he was, talking to me like that? My heart hardened further against him. I wanted to get back on track, right? Well, obedience was going to get me nowhere.

Quick as I could, I opened the door and stepped out, ignoring Eric's snarling glare as studiously as he had ignored me in the car. He could stuff it. I walked up to Pam—the only Vampire I felt had been honest with me—and asked her, "What are we doing near a bunch of bars?"

Her deep frown flipped into a smirk, "Telepathy testing. Time to see how that brain of yours works."

"Around all these people?" My eyebrows rose.

Eric, who I had been diligently refusing to look at, thrust a ballcap and sunglasses in my hands. "Put these on," He ordered. My hackles rose even further at his tone, and I snapped my eyes to his face.

"You listen to me," I spat, "I've had about enough of your attitude tonight. I'm a person, not a damn animal." I waved the sunglasses in his face. "And if you want me in disguise, wearing sunglasses at night is only gonna bring more attention to me." I thrust them back at his chest, and to my surprise, his face softened just slightly; now, instead of looking murderous, he had a deep scowl marring his features.

"Fine," He growled, "Put the fucking hat on." Huffing, I jammed it over my hair, glad it was a plain cap and not something ridiculous like a trucker hat á la Ashton Kutcher.

"So, what exactly do you expect me to do?" I directed my question at Pam again. Unsurprisingly, Godric cut in.

"Just a simple sift of thoughts. We hope to gauge the scope of your gift."

My foot tapped against the asphalt as I thought. "What part, exactly, will I be playing when we go to Mississippi?"

"You will not be in immediate danger," Eric interrupted. "Your telepathy will simply be a safeguard, in case you pick anything up. One of his humans or Weres may know something, or perhaps he will be suspicious of us and send one to stake us during the day, in which case you can intervene."

I sighed. "Fine. What do you want me to do?"

"Does distance affect your telepathy?" Godric asked gently. I nodded once. "We should move closer to the crowd, then, and try to find somewhere secluded."

"Lead the way," I shrugged. Pam started a brisk pace towards the row of bars, the three of us following in her wake. We ended up stopping outside of an Irish pub, the sound of _Rose Tattoo_ by Dropkick Murphys filtering through the open door.

 _How typical_ , I thought wryly.

An awning stretched over several wrought-iron tables placed in front of the building, providing just enough cover to satisfy Eric. He sauntered to an empty table near the front of the pub and sat facing the crowd. Pam and Godric flanked him, forcing me to sit with my back to the groups of people on the sidewalk. I understood the reasoning—to keep me from being possibly recognized—but it still made me feel uncomfortable and exposed.

Eric leaned forward, raising his voice just enough so I could hear him over the boisterous throng of people passing us. "I don't think it's necessary to tell you how bad an idea it would be for you to scream for help, is it?"

Putting my elbows on the metal table, I tilted closer to him and said sweetly, "Of course not, Sheriff. I'm not stupid." _When I escape, you'll be good and dead for the day._ As much as I detested how off-kilter I'd gotten the last few days, the mental affirmation felt good. I realized that I had been flailing in strange waters, trying to navigate the weird relationship that Godric had encouraged me to build. I ignored the flash of emotion in Eric's eyes when I used his title instead of his name, focusing instead on shoring up my own mental fortitude. _I'll get home, I'll tell Gran and Sam what happened, tell the police, and we'll figure it all out from there. It'll all fall into place, and I'll do it my way, not the crack-pot idea Godric came up with…_

Godric…

 _When is the last time Godric had a healthy relationship with another human?_ I thought humorously to myself, before considering the question in earnest. _Jesus. Probably not since he was human, and even then, who knows? What in the world made me think he knew what he was talking about?_ Shaking my head, I came back to the present. The three Vampires were speaking quietly between each other, so low I couldn't hear. After a few more seconds of whispered hisses, Pam stood and strolled into the pub, her hips swaying in her impressively high heels.

"Where's she going?" I asked.

"It would call attention if we were sitting at a bar with no alcohol," Eric replied, his eyes scanning the groups of revelers. "Pam is off to get us drinks." Silence lapsed between the three of us before Eric spoke again a minute later. "What is he thinking?" One long finger pointed discretely to a man a few tables over, talking animatedly with a very pretty woman sitting across from him. I lowered my shields cautiously, prepared to slam them back into place if the flow of thoughts became unbearable. I was happily surprised to find I could focus on the couple fairly easily, keeping everything else more or less at bay.

I listened for a few moments, trying not to be too conspicuous. "He's not really actively thinking. He's telling her a story about work, and his brain is playing a kind of movie. It's like…he's narrating what he's seeing in his memory, if that makes sense."

"Fascinating," Godric said quietly, his deep brown eyes watching me. "What is his companion thinking?"

I smiled. "She's processing what he's saying, trying to envision it. The difference in what they're seeing is really incredible, actually, because he's replaying a memory and she's just trying to build an image, but it's clear she's never seen what his office looks like, and—"

Suddenly, I became aware I was gushing, describing these things. I was, for lack of a better term, _geeking out_ , explaining the things I was mentally hearing. I was _excited_ , to share these things. I felt a little bit like a scientist sharing the findings of a pet research project, bright-eyed and animated. I'd never felt comfortable enough to talk so openly of my ability, and here I was, tickled to death in front of two Vampires. I flushed and tried to calm myself down, settling back into my seat and clearing my throat.

"She's never been in his office, so she's just trying to picture it as best she can." I finished, much more sedately. My eyes flashed to Eric without my permission, locking in a brief stare before I looked away. I didn't want to get lost in his unfathomable blue eyes. I couldn't afford to get sucked back in.

Pam came back at that exact moment, setting mugs of beer in front of Godric and I. For herself, she had a Bloody Mary (really, Pam?) and for Eric, she'd gotten a curvy glass filled with fruit and blue liquid, topped with a paper umbrella. I tried, unsuccessfully, to suppress a giggle at the image of such a big, hulking man—who drank blood, no less—with such a stereotypically feminine drink. Not that men can't have girly drinks, mind you, but the juxtaposition _was_ rather funny. Pam preened, obviously pleased with her little joke, but Eric was a mix of anger and bewilderment. The expression on his face only made me laugh harder, undeterred by his glare.

 _His pout is cute._ I smiled at the thought before I could stop myself, before straightening my face out. _No, Sookie, that's bad. Pouts aren't cute, they're pathetic. Eric is way too old to pout._

It became harder to stifle my grin as Eric slowly reached out and switched out glasses, pushing the curvy glass closer to me. I thought I saw his lips twitch in amusement, before deciding to ignore it. "Who next?" I asked primly.

"The bartender," Pam said instantly.

I exhaled, directing my focus inside the bar. I could see the bartender, though not clearly, through the slightly grimy window behind Eric. He was going over drink orders, his mind impressively keeping up with the ingredients and steps, but strangely…my forehead creased as I heard, looping in his brain, one single bit of a song.

"Pam," I sighed in exasperation, "Did you glamour him?"

A shit-eating grin was instantly plastered on her face, and I knew I had my answer. "What do you hear, dear Sookie?"

"He's trying to keep up with bar orders, but he can't stop hearing the chorus of _All Star_ by Smash Mouth! What the hell, Pam?!" She started guffawing in response, and I couldn't help but to start laughing, too. Godric, bless his heart, looked confused; he had probably never seen the movie _Shrek_ , and I doubted he listened to Smash Mouth recreationally. Who could blame him, really?

In the midst of my laughing fit, my gaze was drawn to Eric once again, a strange expression plastered across his features. As much as I didn't want to analyze it, I could have sworn it was _longing_ , etched across the sharp planes of his face.

* * *

As soon as I stepped from my Corvette, I had told Pamela and Godric about my inadvertent bond. I also warned them—my willful Child especially—to keep their comments to themselves.

"It's none of your business," I all but snarled, "A simple mistake that will fade on its own." I had felt Pam's indignation at my confession, her fury that I had been so careless. Godric had been radiating curiosity, opening our bond slightly—which he rarely did—and letting his inquisitiveness seep through.

I had ignored it.

I had even ignored Sookie's spiteful comments, absorbing the verbal punches, knowing I deserved her wrath, regretting each gruff word I spewed at her as soon as I spoke them. I felt like a fucking fool, as if I had done nothing but make mistakes with Sookie.

Now, having watched her excitement as she explained the difference in the couple's thoughts—feeling her sheer happiness as she was finally, _finally_ able to speak about her telepathy without judgement—and seeing her laugh throatily with Pam, even at my expense, I found myself wishing I'd never met her in the first place. At least not in the way I had. I cursed my own greed, my desire to have a mind-reader at my beck and call, even as I praised it. Without my blind avarice, I never would have met my Sookie. One fucking week and she had ripped me apart without even knowing it. Watching her giggle and get lost in conversation with Pam stirred both jealousy and pleasure deep in my soul.

I wanted that, I wanted her to feel that happiness with me. I wanted Sookie to laugh openly with me, to be the reason she smiled so beatifically. There was a deep-seated ache to be close to her, in all ways, sharing everything I have and everything I am. To receive all of her in return.

To be hers, as I wanted her to be mine.

 _She spurned you,_ a voice growled savagely inside of me. _She didn't want you. You are nothing to her. She regrets letting you rut against her, as if you were a bitch in heat._

Despair and longing were wrapping around the contentment Sookie wrought, choking me like thick, be-thorned vines. _She will never be so open with me._

As the women calmed down, Pamela threw one challenge after another at Sookie. It was impressive, really, the control Sookie had over her own gift. There was very little precedent to judge her ability against, but I was still in awe of her power. My Sookie was a force to be reckoned with, I thought fondly to myself.

 _No, you fucking idiot, not_ My Sookie _. She is not yours,_ the voice screamed again. Godric seemed to sense my internal struggle, his head tilting towards me as Sookie was detailing the thoughts of a woman across the street— _She wanted a rebound, having experienced her first real heartbreak. She was hunting for a man._

"What is it, my Son?" He asked softly, his lips barely moving. I sighed, accepting the comfort of my Maker stepping into the role of Father, ready to guide his Son through trial and tribulation.

"Sookie," I whispered back, keeping my mouth as still as Godric's, all the better to keep our conversation private from the woman herself. "She regrets last night. I felt it, her remorse and anxiety. She doesn't know about the Bond, she regrets giving herself over to me—"

"Eric," He interrupted gently, warmth and serenity radiating into me through him, "Did you tell Sookie of the bond?" I shook my head minutely, watching as Sookie concentrated on counting the number of people seated at the second booth inside the pub.

 _Impressive_ , I thought absently.

"Did you talk to her about any of this?" Another small shake of my head. Godric sighed. "My Son, you are my proudest achievement, but you are being exceptionally obtuse. She is a human girl. If Hollywood is to be believed, they require assurances and affirmation, particularly in the budding of new relationships. I would think, in your special circumstances, this would be even more true."

"Sookie is no normal woman," I growled back, "She has too much fire and spirit to need such things. She is strong, much stronger than the women who have to be told time and again they're wanted."

Godric's eyebrows rose infinitesimally. "Much like yourself, yes? You are much too strong to need assurance that she wants you, too." I glowered back, unwilling to concede his point. "Perhaps, my Son, you just need to talk. Tell her of the Bond, the implications, and what happens next. Be up front with her. And don't close her off. That will be the surest way to turn her affection away from you."

I turned away from my Maker, furrowing my brow as I thought. I had sacrificed plenty of my dignity tonight, I thought, showing up eager and doe-eyed at the safehouse, only for Sookie to spurn me.

Then again…

Had she, really? As I recalled the few minutes we spent in the house, I became aware that very few words had actually been said. Neither of us had broached the subject. I had felt her emotions, felt how tightly wound she had been; but she had no way of knowing how I was feeling. My face had been kept impassive, but perhaps all she saw was indifference? Sookie had no way of knowing I was tense, too, that I had been nervous.

Fuck, I hated admitting that. I put a significant amount of effort into never coming across as anything but cool and confident. Weaknesses of any kind could get a Vampire killed, so indifferent arrogance was always safe. It had always been my go-to, though now…perhaps it was the root of our problems tonight.

Maybe Godric was right.

My Sookie and I needed to talk.


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: I only own the plot.

A/N: Hello! Long time, no see, I know. I apologize, but here's an extra long chapter for you! It's a little bittersweet, but I hope you guys all hang in there with me. Next chapter will be Eric's POV explaining his...thought process. So if some of this seems like it's coming out of left field, it'll all be explained next time. Just please stick with me! We've been through a lot so far together, don't give up now :) thank you for all the favorites and follows and reviews. Please keep them coming, because reviews fuel my writing! ;)

Enjoy!

* * *

Previously:

 _I turned away from my Maker, furrowing my brow as I thought. I had sacrificed plenty of my dignity tonight, I thought, showing up eager and doe-eyed at the safehouse, only for Sookie to spurn me._

 _Then again…_

 _Had she, really? As I recalled the few minutes we spent in the house, I became aware that very few words had actually been said. Neither of us had broached the subject. I had felt her emotions, felt how tightly wound she had been; but she had no way of knowing how I was feeling. My face had been kept impassive, but perhaps all she saw was indifference? Sookie had no way of knowing I was tense, too, that I had been nervous._

 _Fuck, I hated admitting that. I put a significant amount of effort into never coming across as anything but cool and confident. Weaknesses of any kind could get a Vampire killed, so indifferent arrogance was always safe. It had always been my go-to, though now…perhaps it was the root of our problems tonight._

 _Maybe Godric was right._

 _My Sookie and I needed to talk._

* * *

It was surprisingly fun, testing my telepathy, even with Eric glowering the entire time. Something certainly had his panties in a twist—not that I cared.

At all.

Not one bit.

Being able to be fully open about my little disability, to test my limits with it, was a new experience, and I found myself enjoying the little activity. It helped to anchor myself, so to speak, to the silent void of a Vampire while I sifted through the brains swirling around me. It acted almost like a curtain, in a way; I could block off the peripheral minds I wasn't actively listening to, while still being able to easily shift my focus to a new train of thought if I wanted.

I could tell Eric was paying attention, but for the most part, Pam was conducting the 'testing'. Godric would chime in every once in a while with observations and questions-but Eric remained quiet and brooding. I did my best to ignore him and enjoy the mental challenges.

The three Vampires learned a lot about how my mind-reading works, but they weren't alone. I figured out how to listen in on two trains of thought at once, and was even able to dig deeper into subconscious thought a little bit with relative ease. I probably wouldn't have been able to do it without the help of a silent void to latch onto, but I felt pleased with myself all the same. I experimented with my range, pushing my net out as far as possible. It was tiring, but in a good way.

It was getting late by the time we left the little Irish pub, though the crowd hadn't thinned a bit. I was relieved when Eric practically growled that it was time to go. I was starting to over-exert myself, I could tell, and my poor brain needed a rest.

Also, Eric's sourpuss act was starting to really annoy me, and I was ready to see the back of him.

The four of us had almost reached the lot we'd parked in when, out of nowhere, a small-ish man rushed at us. I saw his arm arc up, something long clutched in his fist and headed straight for Eric's chest. I shrieked in alarm, wide-eyed in shock. Unsurprisingly, Eric had grabbed the man in a quick hold, spinning him around with an arm twisted almost perfectly against his spine. The hand held between his shoulder blades was holding a plain yellow pencil. Oddly, the man didn't cry out in pain; he simply stood there, hunched over awkwardly, blank-faced. It took me a second to come back to my senses, but I immediately opened my mind up and pierced his.

 _Nothing_.

Not a single thought, just a haze of static.

He was glamoured.

I was confused only for a millisecond before I figured out what was going on. I turned my eyes to Eric in a glare.

"You glamoured him?" I only got a nod in response, which hiked my irritation up even further. "Why?"

"To check your guard," Pam cut in, "You have to be aware of your surroundings."

I inhaled slowly and held the breath for a moment before exhaling. "Look, I've just spent the past few hours stretching my mind for you three. I can only do so much at a time, and this is new to me. You can't pull this shit. What if you hadn't caught him in time?" I gestured at the man's fist, holding the little pencil. It was sharpened.

Eric sneered at me as he released the man from his hold. "He'd have to be much faster to even hope to hurt me. An adversary won't care if you're _tired_ , they'll simply attack. The more _tired_ you are, the easier it will be to get past your guard." He turned to the man, catching his gaze and speaking lowly to him. The man nodded, smiled blankly, and turned to walk the other way.

I huffed and rubbed my forehead, annoyed _and_ angry _and_ tired now. "Whatever. Can we just go?" I glanced around, shocked that no passersby had paid attention to the little scene we'd just caused.

In response, Eric used his key fob to unlock his Corvette, face still set in a scowl.

 _Sourpuss._

I slid in the car and closed the door a little harder than was necessary. I ripped the stupid hat off of my head and threw it on the floor board for good measure then, latching the seat belt, I watched the Vampiric trio talk for several minutes, Pam scowling around her words as she spoke to Eric. Whatever she was saying had Eric's scowl deepening before he snarled out a few words and turned abruptly, making a beeline for the driver's side of the car.

Silence settled between us again as Eric steered out of the parking lot, thick and tense. Every few minutes I had to stop myself from fidgeting-drumming my fingers on my thigh, bouncing my leg, twisting my hair around my fingers. It was even more uncomfortable than the ride to the bar.

 _What a shitty day_.

When we finally, _finally_ pulled into the driveway of the safe house, I was scrambling out of the passenger seat before the car was even in park. My intention was to go inside, take a shower, and go to bed, without saying another word to the foul-tempered Sheriff if at all possible. My plans were thwarted, however, when the Devil himself called out my name right as my hand closed around the doorknob. I sighed, closing my eyes to gather my inner strength before turning back to him.

"Yes?" I tried to infuse that one word with calm politeness, but even I heard the exasperation in my voice. Eric's eyes darkened and his hands flexed, like he was trying to fight down his own temper.

 _Hopefully he makes this quick. We're both of us in a real mood tonight._

Eric dashed my hopes for the second time as he growled out, "We need to talk."

"About what?" I asked, trying to mitigate the attitude in my tone.

He watched me for a moment before walking towards me, saying, "Everything."

 _Great._

I followed sullenly, _so_ not in the mood to talk about 'everything'. I was just so over this whole ordeal-being held prisoner, traded like so much cattle to save my ungrateful brother's ass, dealing with Eric's mercurial moods...and, to be honest, I was fed up with myself, too. I was still berating myself for losing so much focus, for being distracted by Godric's plan, for being so damn gullible that I believed this ancient asshole could care for anything but his own antiquated vendettas. I was wallowing in my own misery again, letting the guilt and sorrow wash over me. It was childish, of course, but I deserved a little bit of self-pity, right?

I paused right before I took a seat on the couch, my feet having carried me through the house while I was lost in thought.

 _Didn't I just have this conversation with myself, just this evening? And here I am throwing another pity party instead of concentrating on the present. Maybe this conversation won't be horrible. Maybe it'll make things better. Stop being a baby, Sookie!_

Inhaling deeply, I curled my legs underneath me. For good measure, I pulled the throw blanket from the back of the couch and curled it around my shoulders. It may have been picked out by Eric's lackey, but it was the only thing that felt remotely like home in this prison. I needed that comfort right now.

Once I was settled, I looked expectantly at Eric, waiting for him to start. He shifted in his seat, and if I didn't know any better, I'd have said it was from nervousness. It was an odd look on him; it was obvious he wasn't used to _not_ being arrogant and in control. Still, I was determined not to make the first move here. It was his idea to talk, not mine.

"Last night," He started, and I was instantly groaning internally, "We exchanged blood."

My eyebrows rose. "Yeah, I remember." _Maybe a little too well_ , I thought, flushing slightly. Eric must have felt my reaction-embarrassment mixed with no small dose of arousal-because his eyes darkened with his own answering lust. I cleared my throat and sat up straighter, determined not to go down that road.

 _Bad, bad idea, Sook._

"What about it?" I asked.

"Mutual exchanges are the first step in creating a bond, though three are required for the bond to take hold. It becomes permanent at that stage-until one of the couple dies."

 _That_ was not what I expected to hear. My back went rigid. "Okay...so, it's not permanent now? Whatever a bond is, we don't have one, right?" He shook his head and my tense muscles relaxed. "Good. Great. So it's a non-issue. Will it just...fade with time? Or is there a way to get rid of it?"

"It will fade. There are ways to expel the blood, but they are rather painful. Death isn't an uncommon side effect in the process."

My nose wrinkled. "How long will it take to go away on its own?"

"A few months, at most. You didn't take very much, but my blood is quite old and powerful."

 _A few months is nothing, in the long run. I could very well be here forever,_ I reasoned with myself. _It's not ideal, this exchange, but it's survivable._

"So, what are the ramifications of this?"

"Nothing serious. I will be able to track you longer, _feel_ you longer," He nearly purred the last, but I studiously ignored it, since we were _not_ going there, "And you will smell more strongly of my blood. That could be useful, as other Supes will recognize my claim on you and not bother you."

I grimaced. "Your _claim_ , huh?"

He must have heard, or felt, how unhappy I was at his use of that word, because he went on quickly, "It's how our world works. Marking our territory, so to speak, to ward off enemies, to keep others from poaching our humans."

"I'm not a fucking elephant, you know? I'm a person. I can't be _poached_ like an animal!" I was indignant at his explanation; I may have been given away like livestock, but I refused to be treated like it.

Eric sighed impatiently. "I am aware. But you must understand the difference in our worlds, and how we operate and think and live. Vampires hunt humans. For all intents and purposes, your race _are_ animals. We eat you, like you eat cows and pigs."

I couldn't even hope to stop the rush of angry tears that filled my eyes, hurt and upset at being seen that way. "Well, you'll never eat me again, buddy. I'm not a fucking farm animal! Is that what you _really_ think of me, after all your pretty words last night? Was that just some ploy to break me down even further, get yourself a nice, pliant little telepath?"

"NO!" He shouted, interrupting my tirade. Eric's fingers were cutting into the arm of the chair, like the fabric was the only thing keeping him seated. Rage flickered across his face, his fangs extended past his lower lip. "You are not an easy meal...not to me." He deflated slightly as he spoke, though his razor-sharp canines stayed down. "Most humans, yes, they are food. They are inconsequential, drops of water in an ocean of others just as bland and expendable as they are. But you, Sookie, you are...different. I meant what I said last night. Every. Single. Word. You are better than they."

My own anger was fading away, the hollowness left behind filling quickly with a lifetime of insecurities. "I'm just a waitress, Eric. I don't have a whole lot to offer besides my telepathy."

"You're wrong," He denied, the fierceness in his voice taking me aback. His fangs disappeared into his gums.

"How would you know?" I asked, incredulous. "You've known me, what, a week? You haven't been around me long enough to know anything."

"I know enough, Sookie!" I looked at him disbelievingly. "You may think my kind are emotionless, heartless, but that is far from the truth. We feel deeper than humans, more intensely, and often much quicker. Our territorial instincts rise fast, to claim what is ours, to keep it safe and close. There's a beast, deep in every Vampire, that dictates this reflex, that feeds it. My beast wants you, Sookie, to claim you and keep you, and the call is stronger every day. You don't know...you can't know…" He closed his eyes, clearly struggling with himself. I was surprised at how forthright he was being. Eric seemed to gather himself before turning his blazing blue eyes back to me. "To smell myself in you brings such satisfaction to me. To know you've been around other men, especially that _fucking wolf_ , who can tell you're mine, brings me happiness.

"But there is also...confusion. I have never felt this calling, not even with Pam. These strange, intense feelings, I have no idea what to do with them. I am...lost."

I blew out a breath, hugging my knees to my chest. "Eric...I don't know what to say here. I understand, I guess, the whole…'mine' thing. You feel and see things differently. It's just your nature. But, you have to know, I can't be 'yours'. We're not equals, I'm your prisoner; you may not see me as property, but I feel like it. I'm just another possession of yours, only brought out of my display case when you let me. That's not how a relationship works."

I could hear the fabric straining under Eric's fingers as his hands clenched, the fibers starting to snap. "You regret last night," He muttered darkly.

"Yes, I do," I sighed.

"Why? You enjoyed it. I _felt_ it."

"Yeah, sure, it felt good, but we're just...not at a place where I feel right doing _that_ , no matter how much I liked it." I ran a hand through my hair in frustration. "Eric, you have to understand, we're not on even footing. You have power over me, in a very real sense. I'm _not_ your equal here, and I feel that very acutely. I don't know what I was thinking, initiating it...I know I started it. Maybe it's the loneliness, or just that you're a handsome man, but it can't happen again. It just can't."

Bless his heart, Eric looked utterly lost. Gone was the self-assured Vampire; sitting in front of me now was simply a confused man trying to make sense of his feelings. I didn't have to be a mind-reader to know he was perplexed and trying to make sense of everything I said. It endeared him to me all the more, no matter how much I fought it, that he was trying to understand me. Even better that he was letting me see past his guard.

 _It could be a trick_ , my mind whispered to my heart. _This could all be an act, to break you even further._

In the silence between us, as Eric worked through everything I'd said, I mulled over his words as well.

It was certainly an unpleasant surprise that we'd started on the path a 'bond', but it could have been worse, right? I mean, I'd already had some of his blood, and he'd said himself that the effects weren't permanent. All we had to do was just not share blood again. That seemed easy enough to me.

I can't deny a little bit of primal happiness blooming in my heart knowing that he wanted to 'claim' me. After a lifetime of being shunned, it was a strange new feeling. Maybe it was my inner cavewoman, maybe it was just Eric's pretty face, but I liked the idea of someone wanting me, albeit in a very possessive way.

 _Still not gonna happen, but it's nice all the same_.

"You didn't want to see me tonight," Eric murmured, pulling me back to the present.

"I wouldn't say that, exactly," I said after a beat. "I was...anxious. I didn't know what to expect. I've never had to deal with anything like this before."

"Most people don't," He agreed.

I looked at him, completely confused. "As a mind-reader, I can assure you that most people do." How could he not know that? Morning-after regrets were incredibly common plot points in pop culture.

His left eyebrow lifted towards his hairline. "Not with their kidnappers."

"What?"

More silence followed as we both tried to figure out what the hell the other meant. Surprisingly, my lightbulb went off before Eric's did.

"Oh, no, I didn't mean...well, okay, I guess I was nervous about how our dynamic would change, or if it would at all, but I've never done...anything like that…" I trailed off, looking anywhere but at him. I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks in embarrassment as I admitted the depths of my inexperience.

"You're a _virgin_ ," His voice was full of disbelief, and it only made my face feel hotter.

"It's kind of hard to be intimate when you can hear your partner's every thought," I groused.

"I wouldn't have thought that of you."

My head whipped towards him without my permission, my feelings a little bit hurt. "That's a little rude, don't you think?"

Eric's face morphed from incredulous to annoyed. "I'm not calling you a whore. I meant it as a compliment. You're an attractive woman."

I deflated a little at his admission. "Thank you, I guess."

We stared at each other for a while, both of us feeling awkward and out-of-place. I didn't know what to say, or if he was done having this little talk. I stifled a yawn, my brain tired after tonight's intense workout.

"You need sleep," He observed. I nodded, fighting back another yawn.

"It's been a long day," I replied.

"Go to bed," He said, almost gently. His mouth quirked up on one side, almost ruefully. "Don't worry; I won't sneak into your bed tonight."

I smiled at him briefly before standing up, arranging my blanket over the back of the couch. "Thank you, Eric."

"For what?"

I shrugged. "Just...trying to understand, I guess. I appreciate it. I know it's hard for old dogs to learn new tricks." I swallowed hard, feeling lighter than I had in days. "Good night."

"Good night, _min raring,_ " Eric whispered. I smiled at him again before heading back to my bedroom, feeling his eyes on me the whole way. I don't know how long he stayed in the house afterwards; I was asleep not five minutes after my head hit the pillow.

I slept straight until the afternoon the next day. I had needed the sleep, after the mental and emotional drain I'd been under the day before. I could feel a slight soreness in my head-it wasn't a headache, exactly; it felt more like a sore muscle after an intense workout. Using my telepathy so much last night was new, so it stood to reason it would take a toll on me. It wasn't altogether unpleasant, either. Maybe I'd do little tests like that more often, I decided.

Rolling out of bed, I stretched my body and mind out. I was confused when I didn't feel any mental signatures in the house-or around it, for that matter.

 _Where is Alcide?_

After our argument yesterday, I was hoping we'd be able to sit down and talk, similar to how Eric and I had. I acknowledged that I had been a little childish, banishing him from the house for hours on end.

 _But really, what a mean thing to say. He basically was calling me a slut, just to hurt my feelings!_ Huffing, I made my way into the bathroom for a nice, hot shower.

I stood under the spray for a while, keeping my mental shields down. Maybe Alcide was just on patrol? I couldn't hear him in his wolf form, so that made sense.

 _He'll be back before long,_ I assured myself. _Then we can hash out our problems like adults._

But hours passed and I saw neither hide nor hair of him. I was worried, but I didn't have a phone to call him, or even a number to reach him at. His truck wasn't in the driveway and he hadn't even been inside the house, from what I could tell. Still, I made a big lunch, enough for both of us, only to have to put away Alcide's (rather large) portion. I spent some time outside sunbathing, keeping my eyes and mental ears peeled for any sign of him.

I was officially worried when dinnertime rolled around and I was still alone in the house. I'd cooked another large meal in the vain hope that he'd turn up. Maybe he'd smell it from whatever rock he'd crawled under.

 _Maybe it's a test, to see if I'll try and escape? Eric did once say he'd love to track me down if I tried to run away. Then again...after last night, I don't think so. It just doesn't fit._

I finished my lonely dinner, cleaning every nook and cranny of the kitchen to keep myself occupied. I debated cleaning the rest of the house, but I'd done that already that week when Debbie Downer was here…

I stopped in the act of putting the all-purpose bleach away, my mind racing.

 _He was pissed about Debbie yesterday. Maybe he ran away, too? He was scared Eric would figure out he knew about her drinking Vampire blood. Maybe he's afraid Eric would hurt him. He could have decided to go underground or something._

I couldn't think of any other logical reason, unless he was just so pissed at me that he'd abandoned his post altogether. I didn't think Alcide was that immature ( _pot, meet kettle,_ I thought to myself), but anything was possible. He turned into a giant wolf, for Christ's sake.

Still, I was uneasy that he hadn't been around. Should I tell Eric? Would I even see him tonight? What if I just got him into more trouble?

 _Ugh. These damn Supes are gonna drive me nuts._

Eventually, I gave up on the whole situation and just settled on the couch to read. I debated reading more from _The Viking Spirit_ , but after last night, I figured I'd earned some mindless, trashy romance. Fortunately, I was able to lose myself in the book fairly easily; in fact, I didn't notice anything until I heard the front door open and close. I looked up, startled to see the sun had already set through the window.

I felt warm, seeing Eric in the living room; that was quickly squashed, however, when he opened his mouth and said, "Good evening, Sweetheart."

I frowned at him. "Good evening, Sheriff."

Eric's looked at me curiously. "What about my greeting did you not like?"

I set my book on the coffee table and sized him up before answering. "It's going to sound asinine, but when you call me 'Sweetheart', it just has...bad connotations with me. You're usually being mean, or a smartass, or just rude when you call me that. It's like you're just Sheriff Northman, not Eric."

Bewilderment marred his features before he rearranged them to be placid and calm. "I apologize. I'll remember that in the future, Sookie. But you can't have it both ways."

Now _I_ was confused. "What do you mean?"

" _Eric_ is me, the real me, underneath Sheriff Northman. You said last night we can't have any sort of relationship, because of the imbalance in power. The _real me_ wants you, as you are aware, and Sheriff Northman is the facade that covers up those feelings."

I was a little shocked at how open he was being with me. It certainly took courage to be able to admit that kind of thing, at least in my (second-hand) experience. Most people never said exactly what they were feeling.

"I'm not trying to have it both ways. I just don't want you to call me 'Sweetheart'."

"Would you prefer _min raring_?" He asked, almost teasingly.

I sighed. "Sookie will do fine. It feels good, to be called that, but...I told you I can't."

Eric smiled, although it was a hollow sort of smile that faded quickly. "I don't think it will be a problem in the future, Sookie."

"Why?"

Instead of answering my question, he asked me one of his own. "Where is Alcide?"

I shrugged. "No idea. I haven't seen him all day."

Eric's brow furrowed, clearly unhappy. "You were left alone all day. Again."

"Well, the first time, Debbie was here for a few hours. I don't know if Alcide was here at all." I felt slightly guilty for ratting him out like that, but maybe Eric would track him down and find that Alcide was hurt or something? I could hope, anyway. It was better than Alcide just abandoning his post. "I thought maybe you called him off to see if I'd try to run away."

Eric closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, seemingly gathering his wits about him. "Come with me."

I stood slowly, following him to the front door. Eric waited patiently for me to pull my shoes on before opening the front door for me. Warily, I stepped onto the front porch, noticing immediately the Corvette was missing.

"Eric? Are we going to Russell's tonight?" My heart started racing at the prospect; a little part of me was terrified to meet a Vampire who was ancient, even more so than Eric _or_ Godric. Not to mention all the bloodthirsty wolves he had in his thrall.

Without answering, Eric scooped me up, bridal-style, and shot into the air. I squealed in surprise and buried my face into his neck. Cool air whipped around us, blowing my hair everywhere and chilling my skin. Eric's arms tightened, and although he had no body heat to offer me, I appreciated the gesture.

I had no way to track how long we were in the air- _Were we going to the warehouse? Pam's place? Maybe straight to Russell's?-_ but it felt like a long time. Both of us were silent; even if we had wanted to talk, there would be no way I could hear Eric over the wind whistling in my ears.

The current of air seemed to slowing around us, but I was too afraid to lift my face from Eric's throat to check for myself. I just clung to him like a monkey, until I felt the slight jarring of his feet hitting solid ground. One of Eric's hands rubbed my arm, either in comfort or to work some feeling back into it. Gently, my feet were set on the ground, and I could feel grass tickling around my exposed ankles.

 _I wish he would have warned me we were flying; I would've worn jeans instead of shorts_.

Shakily, I got my bearings and pulled away from him to look around at the _very familiar_ landscape.

We were at my house.

My rundown, ramshackle, _beautiful_ , love-filled farmhouse. My mouth gaped open like a fish, shock and awe coursing through me. I gazed up the long, pitted driveway, light shining through the living room window dimly. We were too far away to see if anyone was moving around inside, but Gran never left a light on when she was asleep or not at home.

 _Home. Home. Home. Home._

I couldn't stop thinking it. It was all I could conjure in my mind. _I'm home_.

I shut my mouth and turned to Eric, the question in my eyes: _What are we doing here_?

Eric swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. His tongue darted out to lick his lips before he spoke, his voice hoarse. "Go inside, Sookie."

I was instantly suspicious. "Why?"

"It's your home." He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yeah, but, why do you want me to go inside?"

He looked at me intensely. "It's where you belong."

I blinked. "You're letting me go."

He nodded once.

"Just like that."

One nod.

"Why?"

I swear I felt rather than heard him growl. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Sookie. Just go inside."

Suddenly, my rage welled up inside of me. "Are you fucking kidding me? What is your problem? You're so back and forth all the time! What do you want?!"

"I want you to go inside your house!" His eyes were bright with his own answering fury, his huge hands coming up to grip my arms firmly. "Go inside, tell your grandmother some story about why you were gone-visiting a friend, you got lost in the woods, I don't care-and go back to your life. Back to your job, your grandmother, everyone and everything you left behind. Live your life, just live it better than you were before. Don't settle. Do better."

Befuddled. That's what I was. Where the hell did this come from?

"Why? What made you change your mind?"

His fingers tightened, almost painfully, and I tried to wiggle out of his grasp. Obligingly, Eric removed his hands, only to draw me into his arms. I felt a light kiss on the crown of my head before he stepped away.

"A little bit of everything," He replied. "I told you last night, Vampires feel very strongly. We are very much 'all or nothing'. You told me you won't give me your all...so I will settle for nothing."

"I don't understand," I whispered. And I didn't.

"Do you _want_ to go back with me? Be my little captive, locked in the safehouse all day? Never interacting with anyone unless I say so, scrambling to find something to occupy yourself, trying not to drive yourself insane?" He was nearly snarling by the end of his speech.

"No! Of course not, I just want you to explain to me why!"

"The why doesn't matter, Sookie!" Eric inhaled slowly, calming himself down. With a deep exhale, he went on, "You have repaid your brother's debt several times over. You have helped me on my life-long quest for vengeance; I never truly thought to settle this score. Without you, Sookie, I never would have. You have more than earned your freedom."

I took a step towards the house, keeping my eyes on him. "Is this a trick?"

He smiled, fleetingly. "No."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure, Sookie. Go inside. I can hear that your Gran is awake."

I walked back a few more cautious steps, still wary. "So...this is it?"

Eric finally looked away. "This is it."

I turned to look at the house, walking a few more paces. "Will I ever see you again?" I called over my shoulder, staring longingly at the front door. Silence greeted me, and I turned around to repeat my question, but all I saw was the empty road and the black night. Eric had gone, simply vanished, and I couldn't feel him anywhere with my telepathy. I stretched my mind out as far as I could, and there wasn't the slightest trace of him.

He'd just _left._ He didn't even really say goodbye. That hurt my heart more than it probably should, but the overwhelming happiness of being _home_ overshadowed my grief for now.

I ran up the driveway to the front door, tears starting to stream down my face. As soon as I reached the front door, my hand closed around the old brass knob. Frustratingly, it was locked. I started banging on the wood, yelling out, "Gran! _Gran!_ Open the door!"

I jiggled the knob impatiently, but I could hear the shock in Gran's mind as she tried to get her body to move. As soon as the surprise faded and she was able to move her legs, I heard the creaking of the floorboards as she ran to the front door. The deadbolt slid back, the lock on the doorknob was clicking open, and the door was flung wide to reveal my Gran, her own happy tears spilling down her cheeks.

" _Sookie!"_


	23. Chapter 23

_HELLO_! Okay, so it's been WAY too long, and this is WAY too short! I do apologize, but I absolutely have not abandoned my stories or gone forever MIA. I just had a very hectic time at work and home, but it's...kind of clearing up now. We are getting to the end of the story, but not the end of the saga. I'm sorry this is so short, but I promise I'm working on the next chapter, and it'll hopefully be a really good one.

Again, I apologize, and I hope you enjoy!

Okay, I'll stop rambling. I love your reviews! Keep them coming and it makes me wanna write more!

I own nothing but the plot!

* * *

Previously:

Eric finally looked away. "This is it."

I turned to look at the house, walking a few more paces. "Will I ever see you again?" I called over my shoulder, staring longingly at the front door. Silence greeted me, and I turned around to repeat my question, but all I saw was the empty road and the black night. Eric had gone, simply vanished, and I couldn't feel him anywhere with my telepathy. I stretched my mind out as far as I could, and there wasn't the slightest trace of him.

He'd just _left._ He didn't even really say goodbye. That hurt my heart more than it probably should, but the overwhelming happiness of being _home_ overshadowed my grief for now.

I ran up the driveway to the front door, tears starting to stream down my face. As soon as I reached the front door, my hand closed around the old brass knob. Frustratingly, it was locked. I started banging on the wood, yelling out, "Gran! _Gran!_ Open the door!"

I jiggled the knob impatiently, but I could hear the shock in Gran's mind as she tried to get her body to move. As soon as the surprise faded and she was able to move her legs, I heard the creaking of the floorboards as she ran to the front door. The deadbolt slid back, the lock on the doorknob was clicking open, and the door was flung wide to reveal my Gran, her own happy tears spilling down her cheeks.

" _Sookie!"_

* * *

 _Will I ever see you again?_

Sookie's question reverberated in my skull as I watched her tearful reunion, just out of what I knew to be her mental range. The weak threads of our bond thrummed with her elation and disbelief, though sadness tingled along the edges of her mood. Perversely, I hoped it was at the thought of leaving me.

I watched as Sookie was held by her grandmother, wizened arms crushing their bodies together. Even from a distance, I could hear the relieved sobs from both women. My heart constricted painfully at the sight. Guilt ran through me as I witnessed the healing of the damage I had wrought, however firmly I had believed myself to be justified in my actions.

"Let's go inside, Gran," Sookie's voice was muffled against the older woman's shoulder, though still audible to my ears.

"Of course, dear," She replied, voice tremulous and watery.

The front door was firmly closed, and I faintly heard the clicking of a lock. The rest of their conversation was muffled even to my enhanced hearing, and so, with an unnecessary sigh, I took to the sky, back towards Shreveport.

I let my mind drift as my instincts took over, guiding me in the direction of the warehouse to meet with my Maker and Child.

I had laid myself bare before Sookie; I couldn't remember a time I had ever been so vulnerable, even as a human. There had been a strange sort of relief letting her see that side of me, a side that only Godric had been allowed to see in all my long years. I'd all but begged her to accept me, accept my attention and affection.

I obeyed Godric. I ordered Pamela. With Sookie…I wanted. _I craved._

It was unfathomable, I mused as I flew through the night, that I could be brought to heel by an unassuming little woman. Unfathomable, and yet it had happened. A small stab of pain twisted inside of me at the memory of her rejection. I understood her reasoning, and yet…

And yet…

A part of me had hoped she would ask to stay with me, to go back to her home— _no, her cage_ —and stay with me for all eternity. Her eternity or mine, it didn't matter. I hadn't been ready to give her up, to lose her presence in my life. But once she realized I wasn't tricking her, Sookie had seemed to forget me entirely. Except…

 _Will I ever see you again?_

Did she want to? Would she miss me, as I knew I would miss her? I was certain I wouldn't be able to resist keeping tabs on her, keeping her guarded, perhaps even checking on her from time to time. Would she keep alert, searching for my presence, hoping I'd show up on her doorstep one night? Perhaps she'd search me out on her own one night, driving down every street in Shreveport until she found me, craving me as I ached for her? Maybe—

I snarled suddenly to myself, breaking my own train of thought.

When had I become such a fucking pansy? Idly daydreaming of a woman coming to find me and rescue me from my lonely prison. Fucking insanity.

This would stop instantly.

She was gone from my side, and I was all the better for it. I was likely to get myself killed, mooning over Sookie the way I was, particularly at this crucial point. The raid into Edgington's mansion was looming closer, the plans almost finalized, the time nearly perfect. I couldn't afford any distractions.

I landed fluidly on the asphalt in front of the warehouse before striding inside. There was work to be done.

I found Pam and Godric seated inside of my office, chatting quietly and waiting for me. They each turned to me as I entered and closed the door, their conversation ending abruptly.

I lifted an eyebrow. "Am I interrupting?"

"Hardly," My Child drawled. Her tone was nonchalant, but I could sense her wariness.

"Where is Sookie?" Godric asked, his face as calm as ever.

I breathed out through my nostrils as I made my way to the chair behind my desk. "She is safe."

Pam's brows lifted towards her hairline only slightly. "I thought she was coming tonight."

My fingers glided along the wood in front of me as I slouched in my seat. Back and forth, I rubbed slowly, contemplating how much to divulge to them. The wood was smooth under my cool touch. "Sookie is at home." I paused. "Her home, in Bon Temps."

Pam gasped softly, shock rippling across our bond. I felt nothing from Godric, though he tilted his head to the side just slightly.

"You let her go, my son?"

My fingers stilled against the desk. "Yes."

Silence ensued for several minutes. I heard Pamela shifting in her seat as she waited for me to go on. When I didn't elaborate, she spoke up. "Why? She's valuable."

I could feel my teeth grinding together and my ire spiking, though I fought it down as quickly as it had bubbled up. "Too valuable to risk wasting trying to kill a Vampire three times my age."

"Why the sudden change of heart?" There was a hint of accusation in Pam's voice. "You were all for it last night, more than ready to bring her along in the hopes she _might_ hear something while we're all dead for the day. It was worth the risk then. _Why now?"_

Leaning my head back, I closed my eyes as I prepared to lay bare my crucial missteps. Admitting to mistakes was not something I had practice in, and it burned my well-earned pride to have to do so.

"It seems," I began, "That the situation may be a bit jeopardized. Debbie still hasn't been found, and now it seems that Alcide is also missing."

"I don't see how this jeopardizes anything," Pam replied.

I drummed my fingers against my desk before stilling them again. "Debbie and Crystal Norris were both in cells in the basement at the same time. Ordinarily, this would not be a problem. However, unbeknownst to me at the time, Debbie is _also_ addicted to our blood. Crystal still reeks of it, and I'm certain Miss Pelt could smell it on her. It's not so farfetched to think that they would have struck up a conversation about it, don't you think? Just some friendly chatter, trading notes on how to trap and drain our kind.

"There's also the matter of Alcide, who has apparently gone missing. He wasn't at the safehouse with Sookie at all. Pamela, I need you to contact the Packmaster and ask his if he's been seen." Instantly, she had whipped her phone out, her fingers flying across the keys, presumably texting the aforementioned Packmaster. "If he is indeed missing, we need to entertain the possibility he ran off with his ex-sweetheart, Miss Pelt, who we also cannot locate.

"There's the very real possibility that they have headed north, towards Mississippi. Towards Edgington. If he has been warned, he will be ready for us." I sighed. "I can't bring Sookie into that kind of danger. She is too valuable to risk against those odds. And far too breakable."

"Valuable in what way?" Godric asked gently. I pressed my lips together.

"I need to speak with Crystal Norris, see what she and Debbie Pelt discussed during their time together," I said, in lieu of answering him. A slightly amused smile graced my Maker's lips. I ignored it as diligently as I'd ignored his question.

"Does this alter our plan at all?" Pam asked, her gaze fixed on her cell.

I stood slowly, considering. "No. We will head to Mississippi tomorrow night. It will be a new moon, and his army of two-natured will be at their weakest. It's still our best chance to bring Edgington to justice."

"Would you like us to accompany you?" Godric spoke calmly from his seat.

"No," I said again. "It won't take very long, I'm sure. Wait for me."

I exited my office and headed for the basement door. To my surprise, it was already slightly ajar. Alarm bells went off in my head; when we had a prisoner, the door was to be kept locked.

 _Something is wrong._

Slowly, I pushed the door open just enough to step through, listening for any noise. I heard no breath, no heartbeat; not even the uneasy shifting that usually belied the presence of a captive, nervously pacing or fidgeting in their cell.

 _Surely not._

Snarling, I flashed to the bottom of the stairs, able to see perfectly in the dim light cast by a single lightbulb. Casting my eyes around, pausing at each cell, double-checking, I found my warehouse empty.

 _Empty!_

A roar erupted from me, loud enough to shake the door at the top of the stairs. My fangs nearly pierced straight through my lip in seething anger and sudden bloodlust, urged on by the frantically pounding heartbeats of the few Weres in the building. My limbs found a life of their own as I started ripping the cells from their bolts in the cement, twisting the metal rods, breaking them in half, shredding the rough blankets and cots inside. Every shriek of tearing metal and each groan of ripping fabric sated my beast slightly, though I longed to be tearing fur and flesh from the fucking blood thieves that _snatched my prisoner from right under my goddamn nose._

 _How could this have happened?!_

Slowly, the red receded from my eyes, and I came back into myself, surrounded by destruction. Growls still rumbled out continuously, though my control was firmly in place.

 _Though for how long…who could truly say?_

"Eric." Pam's voice rang out urgently behind me. I breathed out harshly before turning to face her, knowing she could have only more bad news.

"What." I couldn't even bother with inflection; my voice was flat and monotone.

"Alcide hasn't been seen. The Pack can't find any trace of him, but…" She hesitated before picking up again. "…But they did smell Debbie at his house. Their scents have both faded at the same rate. The Packmaster thinks they left together."

"And?" I all but snarled. "Is that it?" I truly hoped so. I had barely been able to calm myself down, and I knew I was still very close to my breaking point.

"Their trail was headed due north. They didn't follow their scent very far, but it looks like they were on their way to Mississippi. I think you're right; they're going to find Edgington."


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: Hello! I apologize for not updating sooner. I promise I didn't forget this story, and thank you all for your messages, reviews, and check-ups to make sure I wasn't dead. Work was supposed to get calmer, and yet, it did not, and for that I apologize. I hope this chapter lives up to the wait, and I also apologize for the lack of Eric in this one. I promise that we'll see him again in the next one. We'll even get some Eric/Sookie interaction! Without further ado, here is the 24th Chapter! (Sorry again for the wait!)

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

* * *

Previously:

 _How could this have happened?!_

 _Slowly, the red receded from my eyes, and I came back into myself, surrounded by destruction. Growls still rumbled out continuously, though my control was firmly in place._

 _Though for how long…who could truly say?_

 _"Eric." Pam's voice rang out urgently behind me. I breathed out harshly before turning to face her, knowing she could have only more bad news._

 _"What." I couldn't even bother with inflection; my voice was flat and monotone._

 _"Alcide hasn't been seen. The Pack can't find any trace of him, but…" She hesitated before picking up again. "…But they did smell Debbie at his house. Their scents have both faded at the same rate. The Packmaster thinks they left together."_

 _"And?" I all but snarled. "Is that it?" I truly hoped so. I had barely been able to calm myself down, and I knew I was still very close to my breaking point._

 _"Their trail was headed due north. They didn't follow their scent very far, but it looks like they were on their way to Mississippi. I think you're right; they're going to find Edgington."_

* * *

It felt surreal to be held by my Gran again. We clung to each other and wept happy tears before stepping inside the old farmhouse, Gran firmly shutting the door behind us. The click of the lock sent a fresh wave of hot tears down my cheeks. I was, of course, elated to be home. For all my mistakes and half-assed plotting over the last week, I was back where I belonged. I barely had to do anything, really, just refuse Eric.

So, _so_ simple.

It still hurt, though.

 _Save it 'til tomorrow, Sook,_ I told myself, _Right now, you're home_.

Gran led me to the kitchen, our hands clasped together. Reluctantly, we both let go as she made her way to the fridge. I ran my palm over the top of the old dining table, savoring the rough texture of the wood as I took my seat. Everything seemed new and fresh to me, despite having spent half my life in Gran's kitchen.

I was startled out of my thoughts when Gran set a plated sandwich and a glass of sweet tea in front of me. "Thank you," I murmured before reaching for the glass as she sat down.

"Of course, sweetheart," She replied, her voice raw with emotion. I couldn't suppress a wince at the endearment, thankful that Gran was wiping her eyes and missed it. "Now, are you gonna tell me where you've been this long while?"

I sat back in my seat and sighed. _Should I tell her the truth? Would she believe me, or would she just think I'm crazy? Hell,_ I _would call the loony bin on myself if I hadn't experienced it._ I bit my lip and studied the grain of the tabletop, trying to figure a plausible excuse that didn't include Werewolves and Vampires. The minutes dragged on, and I had absolutely nothing besides the truth. I could tell Gran was getting impatient, though she was hiding it remarkably well. Taking a deep breath, I decided to go ahead and tell her the truth.

"Gran, have you ever wondered if I wasn't the only weird thing out there?"

Immediately, her reaction threw me off. Her back went rigid, her eyes flat, her mouth straight. I had expected surprise or interest, not Gran's signature 'I'm-hiding-something' pose. I probed gently at her mind, only to find her carefully going over all the chores she had to do the next day.

 _Very suspicious._

"Gran?" I prompted.

"Sookie Stackhouse," She started, though not unkindly, "I'll ask you not to pry in my head. That's a story for later."

My eyebrows rose. "How much later?"

Her lips pursed. "You're getting off-topic."

I eyed her. "Well, I'm different, and there are _other_ different things out there…I'm guessing you knew that?" When she stayed primly mum, I sighed. "Gran, there are…Vampires. They're real. I was with one, though it wasn't exactly by choice…"

It took nearly an hour to tell Gran everything— _well, almost everything; some things she didn't ever need to know—_ and, to her credit, she sat and absorbed everything with barely any questions. Even more surprisingly, she accepted Jason's misdeeds without protest. He had been favored by almost everyone his whole life, even by Gran herself sometimes, so I was slightly shocked that she didn't try to excuse his behavior. She didn't even bat an eye when I told her about Alcide shifting into a wolf; there was more fascination than anything. I didn't see a hint of disbelief during the entire tale.

"…And so, Eric brought me here, said goodbye, and then…he was gone," I finished, before taking a bite of my sandwich. Though I'd already had dinner that night, I found myself ravenous. Chewing, I studied Gran as she digested the whole story.

"Well, I'll be," She murmured. "Vampires…" Silence lapsed between us as I finished my snack, waiting to see what she'd say next. "Sookie, my dear, I think that's quite enough for tonight."

"What? That's it?" I asked, incredulous.

"We've got a big day ahead of us tomorrow, now that you're back. We have to call the authorities, let them know you're not missing any more, call up Sam and see if you've got a job still, figure out your cover story…" She sighed. "What happened to your car?"

I lay my head on the tabletop, groaning. "I didn't even think of all that. Damnit."

"No cursing at the table, Sookie."

I rolled my head to face her, smiling briefly with my cheek resting on the wood. "Sorry, Gran. I'm not real sure what happened to my car. I think Pam destroyed it."

"Pam is the younger Vampire, yes?" Gran asked.

I nodded once. "Yeah, she said something about getting rid of it so that everyone would think I just left town."

Gran snorted. "Well, she sure is a smart one, because that was the story going 'round."

I sat straight up, slightly affronted. "Why would _anyone_ think that? You didn't, did you?"

"Of course not!" She retorted, offence clear in her tone. "I know you'd never disappear on me, Sookie. It was just the town rumor."

Heat flooded my cheeks, a bubble of anger beginning to grow. "Still, to think that I'd just skip town! That just shows how well these people think of me."

"Well, you'd know better than most, I suppose," Gran smiled softly, nudging my hand. Despite myself, I smiled back, accepting her little joke for what it was and letting my irritation fade.

"I'm not sure what we should use as a cover story," I sighed, rubbing my forehead.

"That's a problem for tomorrow. I say we turn in early, so we can get ourselves an early start in the morning."

"Might as well," I agreed, "It sounds like it's going to be a very long day."

We stood from the table in unison, Gran leading the way from the kitchen toward the stairs. I watched her climb each step, my heart jolting as I noticed for the first time how slowly she was taking them. When had that happened? Surely I hadn't overlooked her shambling around all this time.

Had I?

I paused halfway up a stair, thinking. One thing that I had certainly learned about myself over the last week was that I _was_ oblivious. Even worse, I was oblivious on purpose. I grimaced as my feet started moving again, the now-familiar feeling of shame settling deep in my belly. It was starting to get a little old, honestly, having to constantly face my own shortcomings and bad decisions.

 _Being an adult sucks,_ I huffed to myself.

We reached the landing-slower than I remembered, sadly-and Gran wound her arms around me, firm and comforting. "I am so happy that you're home, Sook," She murmured, her voice thick. I felt my own throat tighten in response.

"Me too, Gran. I'll see you in the morning?"

She pulled away gently, patting my arm. "I sure hope so, dear." We smiled at each other for a moment before bidding each other goodnight. I watched as she closed her bedroom door, before heading to my own room just down the hall.

I sucked in a breath before opening my door, half-afraid I'd walk in to find everything had changed. That was, of course, a ridiculous thought; Gran wouldn't have packed my room up just because I'd been gone for a few days. Even so, I nearly had to convince myself it would be okay to walk in.

It felt foreign to me, seeing all of my things exactly where I'd left them. It felt like a lifetime ago that I'd left for work last time; I had been running a little late and hadn't even made my bed that morning. Smiling, I saw that Gran had done it for me at some point. She had even emptied out my hamper.

 _God bless that woman._

I flopped onto my bed with a sigh, running my fingers over the quilted bedspread. It had been passed down through the family over several generations, and so it was threadbare and faded, but it still did what it was meant to do. Of course, it wasn't as luxurious as a soft, blue throw blanket, but-

 _Nope._

I derailed that train of thought as soon as I realized where it was headed.

 _Not tonight, Sook._

I huffed out a breath and sat up, pointedly ignoring how lumpy my old mattress felt. It had worked just fine before. It'd work just fine again. Although, maybe I could save up some money to buy a new one. A decent night's rest was good for a working woman, right?

Of course, I'd need a job for that...and I had no idea if I _did_ still have one. What the hell was I going to tell Sam? Or the police? Or anyone?

And before I could think of a new mattress, I'd need another car. Pam had destroyed mine days ago. Groaning, I rubbed my temples. So much shit to deal with, did I really have to figure it all out right now? It had already been a long night. I could afford a little bit of time to relax at home, right?

It was tempting to just shrug it all off, let it be until tomorrow. But I knew I needed to finally get my head out of the sand, like I'd been promising myself for _days_ that I would, and start tackling my problems. At the very least, I could muddle through some believable alibis that didn't include being kidnapped by a mythical creature. Plus, it would hopefully tire my brain out enough that I wouldn't dwell on aforementioned mythical creature halfway into the night.

Feeling determined, I dug up a pad of paper and a pen, and began sorting my thoughts out the good old-fashioned way.

I woke up with paper stuck to my cheek, sprawled on top of my quilt, still in yesterday's clothes. Blinking hard, I stretched the kinks from my body, instinctively stretching my brain out at the same time. Gran's warm thoughts filtered through my head; she was making breakfast on autopilot, an old Elvis song playing in her head. I smiled to myself before throwing my shields back into place and rolling out of bed.

There's something to be said for bathing in your own home, even with a small water heater and low water pressure. Our old farmhouse definitely showed its age, but it was comforting nonetheless to see all of my favorite bath products lined up in the shower, or to run my own well-used brush through my hair. I even took my time picking out one of my favorite sundresses to wear for the day, just because I had the option again.

Once I was finally ready, I made my way downstairs and went straight to the kitchen to give Gran a kiss on the cheek, grateful to see the coffee pot was still hot and half full.

"Good morning, Gran," I said, pouring cream and sugar into my mug.

"Morning, Sookie," She smiled back, whisking milk into the cast-iron skillet.

"I missed your cooking!" I sighed happily, taking a sip of coffee. "Need any help?"

Gran patted my hand gently before waving me off. "I've got it just about done, dear. Why don't you get the table ready for us?"

I hummed in consent before setting the table for the two of us, setting out plates and filling cups of water. I sat in my customary seat, sipping slowly from my mug, reveling in the fact that I was in my own kitchen.

Gran whisked both of our plates to the oven and brought them back quickly, heaped with biscuits and gravy. I thanked her and dug in, savoring the taste. I was no slouch in the kitchen, but Gran was truly a master. The woman could _cook_.

We chatted between bites, mostly Gran telling me of her week. She'd been in a tizzy looking for me, making phone calls and posting up flyers. Guilt coiled in my heart, despite knowing it wasn't my fault. I couldn't help but apologize periodically, especially when I saw tears beading in her eyes. She refuted them each time, simply saying she was glad that I was home unharmed.

"Sheriff Dearborn, _bless his heart,_ seemed disinclined to file a missing persons report. He insisted that all evidence suggested you disappeared willingly. Eventually, he saw things my way." Smug satisfaction laced her tone, which piqued my interest.

"And how did you sway his opinion?" I asked.

A rare smirk graced Gran's face. "Just a good old-fashioned talking to, that's all it took. It usually gets the job done." I smirked in response, catching a snippet of memory from Gran. She'd gone up to the police station and raised Hell as only a true Southern woman could. "Now, we need to figure out what we're going to do about your cover story. We certainly can't tell the authorities that you were picked up by a Vampire."

I hesitated briefly before answering. "Actually, Gran, I kind of already have an idea. I think we should encourage the idea that I skipped town." Her eyebrows flew to her hairline in surprise at my suggestion. I couldn't blame her for her reaction; it _was_ completely out of character for me. "Just hear me out. It'll be easier to convince everyone that's what happened if they already think it's true. I'll just tell 'em I shacked up with a guy I met for a few days," I grimaced even as I said the words.

"Sookie…" Gran started.

I sighed. "I don't really wanna be known as a flighty harlot, believe me, but Gran, I really think it's the best way to go. I was up half the night trying to figure out what to do."

Gran exhaled slowly, closing her eyes before nodding. "If that's what you think is best, Sookie. What about your car?"

"I'm not sure. I can say it broke down or something. Lord knows it was on its last leg," I smiled, trying to lighten the mood. Gran gave me a half-smile in return.

"What about Sam? What are you going to tell him?"

My fingers drummed against the tabletop, considering. "I think...that the best thing to do is just tell him the truth."

"You think he'll believe it?"

"I...think so. I think he'll have to." I hesitate. "He's different, too."

Gran sat back in her chair, slowly. "Different in what way?"

"Different kind of like that guy, Alcide, I told you about. Except Sam can turn into pretty much any animal, apparently., and Alcide is just a wolf."

Gran laughed. " _Just_ a wolf, eh?"

I couldn't help it; I laughed, too. The idea of someone _just_ turning into a wolf, no big deal, that's _all_ he can do-it was just too funny.

"My whole world has been turned upside down, Gran. Not long ago, turning into a wolf would have been the most outlandish idea I'd ever heard. And now, here we are, saying ' _Just a wolf'_ as if it were no big deal."

Silence settled between us again, and I got up to refill my coffee mug. Gran declined more when I offered, seemingly lost in her own thoughts.

The quiet stretched for a few minutes after I sat back down, intent on finishing my second cup before tackling the dishes. The least I could do was clean up after such a great breakfast. Maybe I'd even sweep and mop the kitchen, too…

"Sookie," Gran interrupted my light musing, "Last night, you asked if I knew there were... _other_ things out there." I nodded, waiting for more. "As you have probably gathered, I did, in fact, know there were... _others_."

My mouth went dry. "What kind of... _others?"_

We studied each other for several moments before Gran spoke. "Others that I probably should have told you about before, though I could never have guessed that _Vampires_ were real, much less a threat…" She trailed off, her agitation clear.

"Gran?" I prompted.

"When I was a much younger woman, not more than a few years after your Grandpa Earl and I had gotten married, I was hanging up laundry when a stranger walked out of the woods. He was lost, he said, and had no idea how to get back to town. He was just...captivating, is the only way I could put it. From the moment he introduced himself, I knew I was a goner. He said his name was Fintan…"


	25. Chapter 25

Hello! I know, I know, it's been literal months. Almost half a year! I apologize, truly, but life just gets in the way sometimes. I've had a few semi-rude messages about my absence, and all I can say is that sometimes writing this story has to take a backseat to being a real person. I will absolutely finish this story, I promise. And thank you to everyone who has reviewed or messaged me with encouraging words or to just check and make sure I really wasn't dead. Sorry! I hope this chapter makes up for it!

Also, I know I mix some of the plot from the books and the TV show, but I usually go with what's easier to keep straight. The bloodline in True Blood was allllll over the place and I'm not a fan...so excuse the mixing and matching. I promise it's on purpose.

Please review, it makes me motivated!

* * *

 _Previously:_

 _"My whole world has been turned upside down, Gran. Not long ago, turning into a wolf would have been the most outlandish idea I'd ever heard. And now, here we are, saying 'Just a wolf' as if it were no big deal."_

 _Silence settled between us again, and I got up to refill my coffee mug. Gran declined more when I offered, seemingly lost in her own thoughts._

 _The quiet stretched for a few minutes after I sat back down, intent on finishing my second cup before tackling the dishes. The least I could do was clean up after such a great breakfast. Maybe I'd even sweep and mop the kitchen, too…_

 _"Sookie," Gran interrupted my light musing, "Last night, you asked if I knew there were...other things out there." I nodded, waiting for more. "As you have probably gathered, I did, in fact, know there were...others."_

 _My mouth went dry. "What kind of...others?"_

 _We studied each other for several moments before Gran spoke. "Others that I probably should have told you about before, though I could never have guessed that Vampires were real, much less a threat…" She trailed off, her agitation clear._

 _"Gran?" I prompted._

 _"When I was a much younger woman, not more than a few years after your Grandpa Earl and I had gotten married, I was hanging up laundry when a stranger walked out of the woods. He was lost, he said, and had no idea how to get back to town. He was just...captivating, is the only way I could put it. From the moment he introduced himself, I knew I was a goner. He said his name was Fintan…"_

* * *

 _Fintan._

The name rolled around my thoughts, over and over, as I scrubbed at the kitchen floor. The yellow dinginess that comes with age didn't have a single hope of being wiped off, but I was sure giving it my very best shot.

 _Fintan Brigant._

The morning was certainly full of surprises; Gran had been very forthcoming, and while I wasn't sure how to feel about everything she'd said, I did feel a little bit more at ease...and, if I was being honest, a little miffed at her.

 _Fintan Brigant, Fairy Prince._

I'd gone my entire life thinking that I was a freak, an aberration in my otherwise normal family. As far as I knew, no one else had any kind of defect like I did.

 _Well,_ I thought to myself _, what I used to think of as a defect._

As I now knew, it wasn't a defect at all; just part of being something _other_ , something not human. Gran's guilt was laced in her words, decades of it buried deep in her heart until now. She'd been an adulterer, she told me, falling into the arms of a beautiful stranger despite her love for her husband.

" _He was just so...alluring, I suppose," she had sighed that morning. "I loved your Grandpa Earl, but I couldn't seem to stop myself."_

 _I had kept my shields up tight, not wanting to see these particular memories. I had been a little surprised that I'd never heard a stray thought about this; but, considering the amount of shame she must have felt, it was no wonder she kept everything so tightly under wraps._

" _We'd been trying for so, so long to have a baby. I thought maybe I was broken-in those days, we couldn't know for sure what was wrong-not like today, with all the medical advancements. Anyway, that one single time with Fintan Brigant was enough. It wasn't but a month or two later that I realized I was pregnant. Grandpa Earl was over the moon once I told him. He was so ready to be a daddy. We were both so happy._

" _I hoped it was his, but I couldn't be sure." Gran had paused and took in a shuddering breath. Shame tinged her words heavily as she continued, "Fintan came again a few months after the first visit, when I was already starting to show a little bit. I was a trim woman back in my day, so it didn't take long. It seemed like he knew right away I'd changed. I don't know how he could tell-maybe it's just something his kind can sense-but he told me the child was certainly his."_

She'd gone on to tell me about how he'd convinced her to drink a vial of a bitter, spicy liquid-to this day, she didn't know what Fintan had given her, only that he'd told her it would protect any of their descendants who inherited the 'Fairy Spark'.

It wasn't until after I started showing the first signs of being 'off' that she realized I'd been the first to inherit that Spark; the telepathy, apparently, was the protection.

" _Both your father and your Aunt Linda were beautiful children, and they were both Fintan's. Your Grandpa Earl never knew they weren't his; not a soul aside from me and Fintan did. He told me before Corbett was born that our baby would be attractive, that normal humans would just be drawn to him. I believe that's why your mother was such a jealous woman; she was a weak-minded person to begin with. His Fairy side just overpowered her to the point of distraction_."

I gripped the rag in my hand tight as I scrubbed harder at the floor. Memories of my mother always made me tense. She had hated me, it was always in her thoughts. It was true that she was a jealous woman—Daddy could hardly speak to the cashier at a grocery store without a fight. She couldn't even stand for Daddy to interact with me. He had loved me, it was true, but his love was tempered by her need to have him all to herself.

" _Corbett and Linda were both beautiful, lovely babies, and they never lost a bit of their charm as they got older," Gran had continued, "Fairies were just naturally alluring, Fintan warned me, and it was a latent trait that would be passed down through the family until his blood was diluted enough. The chances of a baby being born with the Spark would grow weaker with each generation._

" _Fintan was only a half-Fairy, so I assumed it would only take a generation or two for it to die out. When your brother was born—another beautiful, but seemingly normal, baby—I was hopeful. Then Hadley came about, just as normal as your brother, and I felt relief. I didn't know what to expect of a baby that had the Spark, and I had never gotten around to asking. All I knew was that a magical baby would be mighty hard to explain, and I'd hidden my infidelity for decades...I suppose I was just scared._

" _And so, when you were born, another gorgeous little thing, I didn't even think on it anymore. We'd had four human babies in a row; surely the chances of anything manifesting had died out by now. It wasn't evident until you were close to two years old that I started to think you might have inherited the Spark._

" _As a baby, we all just assumed you were extremely fussy. It was hard to get you to sleep, probably from all the barrage of thoughts you had no hope of stopping," Gran's eyes had misted with tears, her wrinkled hand reaching out to cover mine. The contact had amplified her thoughts of guilt, ironically, but I had appreciated her gesture all the same._

" _When you were starting to speak more, you were responding to questions no one had asked, talking about things no one was supposed to know, that sort of thing. That's when I knew you had the Spark, but I hadn't seen Fintan in decades and had no idea what to do about it. So I just let you be, hoping nothing else would surface._

" _Your mother had a strange fascination with you, it was evident. The whole town did." Gran had paused, thinking. "Well, they still do, I suppose. The Fairy part of you just draws them all in, but your telepathy…the 'otherness' of you, it just pushes them all away. It hurts my heart, Sookie, to see it. I live with the guilt every day." Her voice had wobbled and become thick with emotion, tears beading up in her eyes. "I did this to all of you—Jason and Hadley may not have the same burden to carry as you, but I'm convinced that if they had to get by on more than just their looks, they'd be hard-working members of society._

" _As it is, well…Hadley's gone, and you know your brother." Gran had sighed, a lifetime of regret packed into that one little breath. "I'm grateful, at the very least, that you have a good head on your shoulders. Whether it was forced there or not, I'm grateful."_

We'd sat at the table a little longer, the two of us simply sitting silently in each other's company. I couldn't honestly tell her it was alright, that I wasn't angry, that I didn't blame her; I did tell her, though, that I loved her, and it would be alright one day. I was angry at my lot in life, but I couldn't be angry that her actions had made _me_ possible. Gran had been my only champion in life, the only person who was never repulsed by me even just a little bit.

 _Well, until recently, anyway._

I sighed and sat up, throwing my rag on the ground. It hit the tile with a wet 'splat!', scattering soapy water droplets over the fabric of my leggings.

 _Did Eric only find me attractive because of the Fairy blood?_

Everything I knew about him pointed to an obvious 'yes'. It was kind of a double-hitter for him, because not only was he drawn in by natural allure, but my ability was only a bonus for him. Since he, himself, wasn't human, what did he care that I had a weird power? He sucked blood, I read thoughts. He could fly, too.

But, still, it rankled me to know that was it. It wasn't my personality, sense of humor, or my conversation that drew him in. It was just my stupid Fairy blood.

 _Well, it doesn't matter,_ I thought morosely as I stood and started putting away my cleaning supplies. _I'm not seeing him again, and that's for the best. I need to get my life back on track. I need to figure out what to do about a car, what to tell the police about why I've been gone, I need to make sure I still have a job…_

I decided to tackle that bit first; I needed to go to Merlotte's and see Sam. I knew he'd either be at the bar or in his trailer right behind it. Stretching, I headed toward my bathroom to take a shower, leaving a sparkling kitchen behind me.

* * *

I slid behind the wheel of Gran's car-a little nicer than mine had been, but still fairly old—ready to face Sam. I was nervous about his reaction, nervous to ask him about his _otherness_ , nervous to see if I'd lost my job (through no fault of my own), but mostly nervous that I'd forgotten how to drive in the handful of days I'd not been able to.

 _Just like riding a bike,_ I thought to myself as I pulled onto the backroad that would lead me into Bon Temps proper. _Maybe everything else will be just as simple._

It wasn't a terribly long ride into town, but I did live on the outskirts of it. The only other house out this way was the abandoned Compton residence. Old Jesse Compton had died about a year back with no living relatives to pass it on to. It just sat there crumbling to dust.

Which is why I was on alert the moment I noticed a car following mine.

My fingers tightened on the wheel as I let my shields down. The windshield was too dark for me to see inside the car, but I could count three brains that I immediately could identify as Weres.

 _Oh, shit._

I couldn't get anything intelligible, and while it may have just been a coincidence, I wasn't taking any chances. I sped up a little, my heart constricting when I saw they did, too.

 _No, no, no. Not today._

I pushed the gas pedal down further, wishing the old car had more get-up-and-go. The shinier, newer, _faster_ car was getting closer every second, and I was straining to make out any clear words that I could from the minds inside while still watching the road so I didn't crash.

I finally caught one bit of a sentence— _just hit her—_ before the car behind me accelerated faster than I could react. Our bumpers collided, and I held on for dear life as my car spun out of my control. To my credit, I barely even screamed, I was so focused on not dying.

The front of Gran's car smashed into the ditch on the side of the road, and I wasted barely any time collecting myself before I was pushing past the released airbag and bolting out of the car. The three psychopaths who'd tried to kill me were hot on my heels, however, and I thanked God I'd put on my tennis shoes before I left the house.

I ran into the woods on the side of the road, trying to put as much space between us as possible. I didn't think I could make it to civilization in time, but I had to try, damnit.

I'd only gotten a few hundred yards in before I started hearing heavy footfalls. Desperation lengthened my stride as my arms pumped, hoping against hope I could lose them. Or maybe they'd fall into one of those holes that always seem to pop up in cartoons, the ones covered with leaves and dirt so you don't see them until you're already at the bottom.

I smiled a little at my own thoughts, one that was quickly wiped away when two burly arms snapped around my waist and lifted me up. Immediately, I started screaming and kicking my legs wildly, struggling fruitlessly against the sweaty, hairy arms.

 _Gross_. _Eric's arms are much nicer—oh! Eric!_

I stopped struggling so hard, remembering how useless it was against Eric when he'd taught me some self-defense.

 _Almost like he knew._

I went limp in the guy's arms, and I felt his chuckle through my back as his arms loosened just a little.

Just enough.

 _Gotcha_.

I smashed my head behind me, thankfully catching him in the nose and hearing the sharp _'crack!'_ of bone breaking. I brought the heel of my shoe to the vicinity of his groin, kicking a couple of times until I hit my target and felt him double over in pain. He dropped me to the ground, and I was off again, his two friends hot on my heels.

Even with adrenaline on my side, I only got about thirty more feet before I was tackled to the ground. This guy felt bigger than the last. His meaty hands held me face-down by the shoulders, his knees caging my legs so I couldn't kick at him. Still, I struggled, screaming for help as loud as I could. As soon as I paused to inhale, a scrawny hand appeared with a rag— _the third guy, maybe? —_ and pressed it against my nose. It was too late to stop myself from breathing, even though I had an idea of what was in the rag.

My struggling got a lot tamer before everything started to get dim around the edges, both anxiety and calm blanketing me to unconsciousness.

* * *

 ** _ERIC_**

 _If I had a heartbeat, it would be erratic right now._

I breathed deep, scenting the air as the three of us walked up the pathway leading to Edgington's mansion. The smell of Vampire, Were, and freshly cut grass was heavy on the breeze. There was no moonlight, as it was the night of the new moon, but floodlights kept everything aglow anyway. I could feel Pam's admiration for the impeccably manicured lawn and the overall beauty of the building—I didn't know whether Edgington had bought or built this home, but I couldn't deny the elegance of it. Even the Vampire guarding the front door was attractive.

"Hello," She purred, her eyes flicking over Pam, Godric, and I with lightly veiled interest. Full, painted lips perked into a smile, small fangs peeking out.

 _A baby Vamp? Suspicious._

"Hello," Godric murmured back, his face unmoving. "We request an audience with King Russell."

The guard tilted her head sweetly, the brown waves of her hair moving with her. "Is that so? Do you have an appointment?"

"No," I chimed in, giving her my best smile. Her smirk deepened as she gave me the once-over. "Do you think you'd be able to…squeeze me in?"

My suggestive words seemed to work on her. "I think I might be able to do just that," She replied, her tongue flicking out to wet her lips. "Give me a moment."

The baby Vamp was gone for only a handful of seconds before she was back in front of us, the door suddenly open. "Follow me," She answered, looking decidedly less _flirty_ and much more _pouty_.

 _Even more suspicious._

The bond between the three of us hummed with caution; we all knew something was up. More than ever, I was grateful that I hadn't brought Sookie.

 _They must know,_ I thought to myself grimly as our guide ushered us from the elegant entryway into an opulent sitting room. The wall to my left was completely made up of built-in shelving filled with books. A large desk was situated on the opposite side of the room, three empty chairs surrounding it. Directly in front me, despite the heat of summer, the man I knew to be Russell Edgington was warming one hand over the fire crackling in the hearth, the other swirling a glass of blood, swaddled in a red smoking jacket.

"Thank you, Felicia, that will be all," He drawled in an unnaturally Southern accent.

The baby Vamp—Felicia—swept into a bow before retreating, presumably to take up her post at the front door. Edgington turned and glanced at us, though he looked drawn and tired in comparison to the photos I'd seen of him. Even in my vague memories of him, he looked better.

"Welcome to my Kingdom," He smiled pleasantly, swirling his glass. "What can I do for you?"

Silence lapsed for a moment before Godric spoke. "You were expecting us."

Edgington chuckled. "Well, yes, I was, Godric of Gaul; Eric the Northman; Pamela Ravenscroft." His ancient eyes swept over each of us in turn, seemingly at ease even in his weakened state. "I received a…little tip that you were on your way. And other little tidbits of information to boot."

The smile curling his lips was pure malice, evil in a way even I hoped to never be. "And what, pray tell, would those bits of information be?" I asked nonchalantly, one eyebrow raised in question. If our ruse was over before it even it started, I had absolutely nothing to lose by asking.

"Oh, well, this and that. You know how Weres are," He chuckled, taking a small sip from his glass. Warning bells started ringing immediately at the mention of Weres; had Alcide and Debbie come here, as we'd thought? I figured it was a strong probability, but the reality of it was still…terrifying.

 _How much had they told him?_

Edgington sipped again. "It's quite the coincidence you've come tonight, when there's no moon. It's almost as if you know I use werewolves as soldiers." He paused and grinned. "Yes, very strange indeed that you'd come on the one night they're at their weakest."

I could feel the three of us tensing, waiting for whatever trap Edgington had set to be sprung. He was being much too coy to not have something in the works. We'd walked right into it.

 _All for my own selfish vengeance_.

"Luckily for me, however," He continued cheerfully, draining half of his glass in a single gulp, "I have the foresight to give my best, most loyal pawns my blood to keep them strong, just in case something like this pops up." His evil grin got bigger as he swirled his glass, over and over, unblinking eyes boring into mine.

Pam scoffed. "You bled yourself half-dry to feed mongrels? I wouldn't call that foresight, I'd call that _fucking stupid_."

She had a point; blood was our strength. If he'd drained himself, that meant he would be a much easier target. Surely, we could get through his blood-fueled Weres, even if only for a few moments. That would be enough time to drive a stake through his heart…or rip it out and crush it.

Russell, however, was unfazed. "Well, my dear, you may think so, but I'm the ancient one here, not you. I've kept myself alive for longer than your maker could even fathom." He stalked closer to my Child, reaching a weathered hand out to stroke her hair. Pam snarled and snapped her fangs at him, before he pulled away and chuckled.

His glass kept swirling, swirling, swirling, and as he passed by me, the familiar scent in the glass hit me with full-force.

 _Sookie_.

My face must have betrayed me, because he laughed even louder. "Oh, Northman, you do _not_ disappoint! Even diluted, you can smell your Fairy's blood!"

 _Fairy?!_

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I snarled, enraged beyond words.

 _How did he get her?_

I felt my own failure washing over me, knowing he had her. Where was she? He was _drinking her blood_ , something my inner beast found completely unacceptable _._

 _How dare he?!_ I bared my fangs at Edgington, enraged beyond belief.

"Miss Stackhouse is truly a rare vintage. When I heard she was a telepath, I just _knew_ I had to have her. An ability like that can't go to waste, now, can it? And I certainly couldn't let her stay in your custody…although my Weres tell me you released her last night." His nasty smile made a reappearance as he continued in his monologue. Pam, Godric, and I stood rooted to the spot, waiting for my ancient nemesis to make the first move. We may have walked right into a trap, but there was no sense in acting rashly.

"Yes," he continued, swirling what was left of _Sookie's_ blood around and around, "I just couldn't let her slip through my fingers…and imagine my surprise when I first had a whiff of her delicious scent! Too weak to be pure Fae, but nonetheless, I knew I had a Fairy on my hands."

Fairy. _A Fairy._

I'd encountered a scant few Fae in my time on Earth, though they were always at a distance. I knew they were especially sweet, the most prized delicacy a Vampire could encounter. I'd never tasted one…until Sookie.

 _My Sookie. He has her._

Sookie's bloodline forgotten, I turned my train of thought back to her actual whereabouts. "Where is she?" I gritted out, my teeth grinding together.

He smiled again, a truly vicious sight, before draining every last dreg from his glass. "Why, she's here, of course!" Placing the now-empty glass on the mantle of the fireplace, he clapped his hands twice and gazed expectantly, calmly, in the doorway behind me.

I turned on instinct, smelling her before I saw her; the natural scent of her skin mixed with a woodsy odor and topped with a hint of her blood. A burly, foul-smelling man carried my Sookie's unconscious body into the room, and with every soft exhale from her, I could smell vestiges of chloroform.

 _They'd drugged her._

My eyes dragged over her body, checking for any damage, and finding her wrist wrapped tightly in bandages.

My chest heaved with unneeded breaths as I fought to keep myself in check.

 _They hunted her down. Took her. Drugged her…And cut her._

I was growling; I could feel it in my chest, just as I could feel the caution and worry singing down the bond I shared with my Maker. Despite my best efforts at reigning in my rage, I could tell I was losing control.

I turned back to Russell Edgington, my fingers flexing slowly. Gone was his smile and genteel Southern demeanor; his countenance was the full-on ancient Vampire that I knew he was. Both our fangs were bared, my eyes shining with hate, his with insane glee.

I couldn't control myself anymore.

 _He hurt my Sookie._

A roar erupted from me as I threw myself forward.


	26. Chapter 26

Well, hello! Another update, so soon? Crazy! So, this is the second to last chapter. The next one will resolve this story arc, but I promise I have a sequel planned out. It will be much more romance heavy, with less action an angst and "omg are they ever going to get their shit together?" This is a shorter chapter than the last one, but at least it wasn't a six month wait, right?! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy, and please leave a review!

* * *

 ** _Previously:_**

 _They hunted her down. Took her. Drugged her…And cut her._

 _I was growling; I could feel it in my chest, just as I could feel the caution and worry singing down the bond I shared with my Maker. Despite my best efforts at reigning in my rage, I could tell I was losing control._

 _I turned back to Russell Edgington, my fingers flexing slowly. Gone was his smile and genteel Southern demeanor; his countenance was the full-on ancient Vampire that I knew he was. Both our fangs were bared, my eyes shining with hate, his with insane glee._

 _I couldn't control myself anymore._

 _He hurt my Sookie._

 _A roar erupted from me as I threw myself forward._

* * *

I felt like I was swimming through muck.

Every limb felt heavy, darkness pressing in close all around me. I heard noises filtering in through the mud I was trapped in. I tried to lift my arm but all I could make it do was twitch half-heartedly. The world around me sounded angry; there were crashes and screaming, but I couldn't make out anything specific. Through my muddled thoughts I could feel dread starting to set in.

 _What happened? What's going on?_

My mouth was as unresponsive as my arm; all that I could do was groan quietly. Huffing internally, I struggled to reach out with my mind, and found that was just as impossible as everything else. It seemed like the only thing still working was my nose, unfortunately, because I detected something foul close by.

 _What the fuck did they do to me?_

The smartest thing to do, I decided, was to stop struggling and hope for the best. I was just expending energy that I could save for later. I had a feeling I would need it.

Sure enough, I slowly felt more awareness coming to me. I could feel my fingers respond as I stiffly curled them into my palm. I tried again to reach my brain out and was relieved to discover that was coming back, too. I felt voids zooming around, rarely pausing long enough for me to get a bead on them. There were numerous snarly thoughts— _Weres, clearly—_ surrounding me, some of them stationary while others were darting around the voids I felt. Even as I tried to count them, several blinked out of existence.

 _I think I just heard them die. Who are they fighting? Is that Eric? What's going on?_

I tried to concentrate harder, but I just couldn't seem to make myself. My eyelids wouldn't even open yet. I changed tactics, attempting to delve into the Weres mind closest to me and was a little startled to discover he was holding me, on the edge of the fray. Through his eyes, I was able to get short glimpses of what was going on.

 _A large, fairly tacky room, Weres crowded inside as two strange Vampires fought three very familiar ones. Pam was holding her own against a thin, curly haired opponent, while Godric and Eric were tag-teaming a man I knew from memories to be Russell Edgington._

 _How did I get to Mississippi?_

I couldn't get much more than that, though I noted that Eric looked far angrier than I had ever seen him—and a lot bloodier, too. He'd mentioned that Russell Edgington was older than he and Godric combined, but surely their combined strength would be more than enough?

My internal musings were interrupted by a bone-jarring impact, and I felt myself flying through the air to collide with something solid. A dull ache pulsed from where my head hit whatever I'd been tossed into and my left side—the one I'd fallen on—was throbbing. My forearm seemed to hurt more, though I couldn't fathom why. The yelling and snarling got louder around me, and my mental net sharpened into focus.

Finally, my eyes opened, and I found myself laying in a heap on the floor, apparently forgotten as everyone in the room—save myself—turned into one big mess of fists and roars. I heard a pained yell and saw Eric crash into the wall opposite me. His wild blue eyes met mine for the briefest of moments, a small river of blood running from his blond hair straight down his nose, before steely determination flashed over his features and he was nothing but a blur again.

 _Useless. Absolutely useless. Come on, Sook, think!_

There had to be a way I could help. My team, as it were, was severely outnumbered, and if these were the same wolves Edgington was feeding his blood to, they were outgunned, too. Casting my eyes about, I surveyed the room. There were no obvious weapons, no convenient stakes to drive through Edgington's heart. I had to be able to do something.

Suddenly, a screech echoed through the din and everything came to a grinding halt at once. Every eye swiveled to Pam, her hands locked just under the unfamiliar Vampire's ears, slowly twisting as his head turned at an angle that would kill a human. I vaguely heard Edgington screaming before the Vampire's head popped off cleanly. Every bit of him erupted into a goopy mess of veins and blood, covering Pam as she grinned fangily at her remaining opposition.

The sound coming from Edgington was absolutely inhuman, and I knew I would never be able to forget it. He launched himself at Pam, only to be intercepted by Godric and Eric. Before he reengaged them, I noticed how pale and drawn he looked; the veins in his stringy neck stood out sharper than I remembered from Crystal's memory, dark bags making half-moons under his eyes. Still, it seemed Godric and Eric had their work cut out for them.

As for Pam, she was going after the remaining werewolves with a ferocity that really was impressive. In no time at all, she had downed three opponents; she snapped two necks in quick succession before running her hand through another's heart. She whirled away, blood spraying everywhere, but I noticed that Edgington paused momentarily to stare at the pool of blood forming underneath the body almost hungrily.

 _When is the last time he fed?_

I moved my arms to prop myself up only to feel a searing pain in my left arm. Looking down, I discovered a bandage wrapped tightly around my wrist.

 _Did he take my blood?_

It was like a lightbulb burst into life in my brain.

 _Of course, he did. He's been feeding the werewolves, but it doesn't look like he's taken enough back in. He must be starving. If he's this strong half-drained, I'd hate to see him at full capacity._

I searched around me for something sharp as I unwrapped the bandage, keeping mental tabs on Eric, Godric, and Pam. A picture frame seemed to have shattered several feet away, and I was completely forgotten as the room full of supernatural beings were fighting each other to the death.

 _If he wants Werewolf blood, which Eric told me is gross, then he'll definitely want mine, which Eric said is not gross. If I can distract him just long enough…_

I didn't have any doubts about Eric being able to capitalize on the opening I was hoping to give him. Even without prior coordination, he was an opportunist through and through. He'd know to jump in.

I crouched and made my way quickly over to the scattering of broken glass, searching for a piece that was sharp enough and big enough for what I needed. The fighting was getting more intense, making my hands start to sweat and shake from adrenaline.

 _I need to do this quick._

Carefully, I picked up a piece of glass that looked just right for the job. I breathed deep and tried to summon my courage, placing the sharp tip right against the wound created without my consent. For a few long seconds I couldn't seem to make myself push down, until another painful grunt from Eric gave me all the courage I needed. I exhaled and pressed the sharp glass deep into my wrist, dragging it down quickly. It was painful beyond words and I gasped, feeling almost faint as the blood immediately began to pour out.

 _I must have gone deeper than I thought_.

I stood up fully, trying to regulate my breathing as I began to pick my way into the eye of the storm. I was really kind of banking on Russell being the only hungry Vampire, though I couldn't imagine Eric being so stupid as not to eat before charging into battle.

It took some effort and a lot of dodging, but I was able to make it within ten feet of Russell squaring off against Eric and Godric. They were at what looked to me like a stalemate, though Edgington admittedly looked better. Godric was smeared red all over, and Eric was panting heavily—which I didn't even know Vampires could do—with cuts littering him from head to toe. Edgington had a few scrapes, and while he did look incredibly worn down, he looked more in control of himself.

Until he seemed to finally smell me leaking blood all over his polished marble floor.

A look of pure ecstasy overcame him as he turned my way, his fangs elongating almost down to his chin.

"Oh, my dear, you do smell _so_ delicious."

That was all he said before he blurred toward me, knocking me into the floor as he savagely bit into my arm. The pain was excruciating, and I screamed automatically before kicking wildly at him. I could feel his mouth sucking greedily at my arm; I could almost feel the blood zooming from my veins down his throat. I looked around, frantically searching for Eric. Surely he was coming.

To my horror, I couldn't see him anywhere. I sensed him, surrounded by a ring of werewolves, fighting through them as fast as he could. Their minds blinked out rapidly, but I didn't think he'd make it to me in time. There were too many Weres, and Edgington was draining me far faster than I thought he'd be able to.

I brought my free hand up to shove at him, only to discover the big shard of glass still clutched between my bloody fingers. Taking a deep breath again, forcing the last bits of my strength into my right arm, I took aim, and plunged the makeshift knife down into his left shoulder.

I felt him convulsing in pain, though he didn't explode into gooey bits, so I figured I must have missed. Or maybe it had to be an actual wooden stake and not a glass one. I didn't have the time to ponder the difference in materials, so I jerked my weapon free from his skin and started stabbing wildly, as deep as I could, hoping I'd be lucky enough to hit home.

A few slashes in and Edgington snarled, disengaging from me to sit up and glare down at me.

"You stupid bitch," He growled, my blood splashed across his face. _Gross._ "You think that you, a silly, weak human can kill _me?_ I am an ancient Vampire, and your hybrid blood is no match—"

He stopped abruptly, gurgling for one full second, before he exploded all over me in a disgusting, tepid bath of blood and gore.

Eric stood behind where Russell had been moments before, his hand squeezing a lump of red tissue, blood halfway up his arm. Everything seemed get quiet suddenly as we locked eyes for the second time that night before the blood loss seemed to catch up with me, and everything went dark again.

When my eyes opened again, I was staring at the dull white ceiling in my bedroom, and I half-hoped everything had been a dream. From meeting Eric, to coming back home, to being kidnapped and drugged…

I didn't feel any pain, which boded well for my dream theory, but those hopes were dashed when Eric himself came into my view and sat on my bed beside me.

I swallowed before clearing my throat to speak. "Hi."

The smallest of smiles graced his lips. "Hello, Sookie."

A tense quiet settled between us, each waiting for the other to start.

"You feel fine?" He questioned.

I nodded. "But you know that, with your blood in me."

He looked almost abashed for a moment. "You're correct. Though I'll be feeling you much more clearly now."

My eyes narrowed. "What does that mean, exactly?"

"Sookie." Eric's face went stony as he regarded me. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't give me any of your attitude right now, considering what we went through tonight."

I huffed out a breath. "You're right, I'm sorry. I feel all…muddled."

"I'm aware." He paused, staring at me. I sat up in bed, needing to feel less vulnerable. "We had a second blood exchange."

"Okay." I ran my hand over my face and through my hair, pushing it back behind my shoulder. "Did this happen after I passed out?"

"Yes," He murmured, his eyes disconcertingly soft. "You'd lost too much blood, so I gave you some of mine. I cleaned and sealed your arm and the various other cuts you sustained."

I sighed. "He drank faster than I thought he would."

Eric laughed quietly. "He was doling his blood out as if he would never run out of it. I'd call him stupid, but we may not have survived if he hadn't done it."

I nodded, picking absently at my quilt. "He's dead now, right? I didn't imagine that?"

"No, he's gone. His vile pack of wolves are all dead. His lover, Talbot, is dead. He's the one that got his head twisted off by Pam." He must have felt my confusion at the mention of Talbot. "He was older than Pam, actually, so it's quite impressive she was able to best him so easily."

"She survived, right?"

"Yes. All four of us are alive and well."

We went quiet again, though we couldn't seem to hold eye contact this time. The silence got to be oppressive enough that I blurted out, "So is everything over? Like, he's dead, I repaid Jason's debt, we go on our separate, merry ways?"

I still wasn't looking at him, focusing on the faded fabric of my quilt, until Eric's cold fingers gently tilted my chin up. His eyes were deep and fathomless, shut off but somehow still inviting. If I didn't know any better, I'd say there was a bit of hope shining there.

"Do you want to go on our separate, merry ways?"

I was a little gobsmacked. He was putting it all in my hands? It was only fitting, I supposed, since he'd made a lot of decisions for me in the scant week that I'd known him. Maybe it was his way of apologizing?

Still, I wasn't sure…

I licked my suddenly dry lips and gently pulled away from his touch. "I don't know. It's just…a lot. You know?"

Eric's face became shuttered as he rose gracefully from my bed, nodding. "Of course. A lot has happened. I'll leave you to your rest."

He turned to leave, and in my panic, I shouted, "Wait!" He froze and turned his head partially back, though I couldn't quite see his eyes. "Look…I just need time to think. Alright? I just need time." My fingers began picking at my bedspread again, nervous energy surging through me. Eric sighed softly before turning and walking back to my bed.

"Here," Eric said, fishing out his wallet and extracting a business card. "For when you're ready. Or not."

He turned again and walked to my bedroom door, murmuring softly, "Goodnight, Sookie," before closing it softly behind him.


	27. Chapter 27

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

A/N: Okay! So here is the last chapter of this story. I'm working on the sequel, which is where the real romance will be. I make no promises on when it will be out, though. I'd like to apologize for how long it took to get this out; I didn't forget about the story, I didn't abandon it, I didn't forsake it. I truly am sorry it took literal months. Thank you so much for reading! Hopefully the sequel turns out better :)

* * *

Previously...

 _"Do you want to go on our separate, merry ways?"_

 _I was a little gobsmacked. He was putting it all in my hands? It was only fitting, I supposed, since he'd made a lot of decisions for me in the scant week that I'd known him. Maybe it was his way of apologizing?_

 _Still, I wasn't sure…_

 _I licked my suddenly dry lips and gently pulled away from his touch. "I don't know. It's just…a lot. You know?"_

 _Eric's face became shuttered as he rose gracefully from my bed, nodding. "Of course. A lot has happened. I'll leave you to your rest."_

 _He turned to leave, and in my panic, I shouted, "Wait!" He froze and turned his head partially back, though I couldn't quite see his eyes. "Look…I just need time to think. Alright? I just need time." My fingers began picking at my bedspread again, nervous energy surging through me. Eric sighed softly before turning and walking back to my bed._

 _"Here," Eric said, fishing out his wallet and extracting a business card. "For when you're ready. Or not."_

 _He turned again and walked to my bedroom door, murmuring softly, "Goodnight, Sookie," before closing it softly behind him._

* * *

"G'night, Sam!" I said over my shoulder as I stepped out into the warm night.

"Night, Sook," Sam answered, strolling behind me. I sighed internally; ever since I'd re-appeared in Bon Temps a few weeks before, he'd been dogging—no pun intended—my steps. Keeping a _very_ close eye on me during my shifts, watching to make sure I got to my car safely, and, sometimes, I knew he was outside, roaming my woods at night. I didn't tell him I knew he was out there; I appreciated the sentiment, even if it was overbearing.

I'd called on Sam the two days after I woke up in my bed after the fight with Russell. He got the same story Gran did: the truth, minus the more intimate details. Funnily enough, Sam could smell Eric's blood in me, and he recognized the scent pretty quickly. It had taken a while to calm him down and make him see how _awful_ of an idea it would be to go after Eric, but he did eventually agree to drop the matter. It was a relief to not have to worry about the matter, but it also felt good to just be able to assert some control over my life again.

Thankfully, Sam also hadn't hired a new waitress to replace me, so I had gotten back to work fairly quick. I had to make up for lost wages, money that Gran and I desperately needed.

It caused a ruckus throughout the town when I suddenly re-appeared. There was a thicket of nasty minds to wade through every night, but it was easier to block them out than it had ever been before. Now all I had to fight off every shift were nosy questions instead of intrusive thoughts.

The only patrons I always lowered my mental shields for were the folks who worked at the Bon Temps police department. My disappearance was a fairly big deal in the small town, and the Sheriff was reluctant to accept my story, despite having plucked it from his own brain.

When Sheriff Dearborn came to ask me about where I'd been and what I was doing, I had let his thoughts filter through my own. He was already thinking I'd run off somewhere, like my "no-good cousin Hadley", and it seemed like the best option would be to go along with it. He had thought at the time how it didn't stick just right based on what he knew of me, despite it being _his own thoughts_ , but there was no evidence to contradict my own story. And besides, I was alive and well; what reason was there to dig any deeper, really?

Still, I figured it was better safe than sorry when it came to them, always testing the waters when they came around. They'd long since moved on to other local problems, and my strange ways only briefly entered their minds.

The girls at work tried to wheedle me for details, but I always kept them at bay with a wink, telling them a lady never kisses and tells. I never confirmed or denied any rumors, letting everyone around me think what they wanted to, no matter how much it hurt my pride to do it.

Gran was supportive of my decision, and always put a stop to the gossiping when she was asked what I had really been out there doing. It made my heart swell when Gran had told me she'd firmly put Maxine Fortenberry in her place, telling her, "My granddaughter is a grown woman and can make her own decisions without me dabbling about. Maybe it's time you do the same for Hoyt."

She had also been understanding of how little I wanted to be around Jason. He didn't remember anything, not even that he'd been hooked on Vampire blood, but that didn't absolve him of the wrongs against me. I never asked Gran to keep Jason from our home, but she had stopped inviting him over when she knew that I would be around. Of course, we still had interactions when he would stop by unannounced or waltz into Merlot's, but that had been the extent of it. If Jason noticed my lack of presence, he didn't comment on it.

All in all, things were going as well as I thought they could. I hadn't used the business card Eric had left with me, though I won't say I wasn't tempted. Something about our parting had felt incomplete, and it rattled under my skin when I thought about it (which was more often than I wanted to admit to myself).

 _What am I waiting for?_ I mused to myself as I pulled out of the Merlot's parking lot. Gran was sharing her new-to-her car with me, so I was at least always able to get to and from work; she rarely drove and we certainly didn't have the funds to replace my old one. As it was, we had barely been able to replace the car that had been totaled by the Weres who'd run me off the road. As for my car, there was no insurance payout; I hadn't even filed a claim with the company. What could I have told them? _'A Vampire totaled my car and I have no idea where it is, but can I have my money, please?'_ That wouldn't have gone over well at all, so until I could afford a new one, I was going to keep having to borrow hers.

If I was being honest, I inexplicably felt like I was borrowing someone else's life, too. I didn't feel like I fit here anymore. Not at Merlotte's, delivering pitchers of beer in my waitress' uniform; not in Bon Temps, this tiny town I'd never really been accepted in; not even in my bedroom, decorated with things that just seemed… _immature_ now. I was restless, I was incomplete, I was even a little bored.

I didn't exactly relish every aspect of my week in captivity, but there was something to be said about knowing there were other things out there. I wasn't a solitary freak; I was just _other_. After Gran's admission, there was a part of me that wanted to find all of the _other_ things out there, be near them, not be alone in my strangeness.

Gran's car rumbled up the driveway, as rocky as my own thoughts were. I could be near _others_ ; I had a direct line to them, even. I could admit that I missed Eric, both his company and the ability to just be myself around him. I just didn't know if I was ready to face him, and whatever it was between us that hung in the balance.

I sighed, shutting the car off and tromping my way inside. The house was already dark, and I could tell Gran was sleeping peacefully in her bed. I'd started doing mental sweeps when I got home, and I hadn't picked up anything nefarious so far. Sometimes I thought I would sense a void on the edge of my 'radar', but I could never be sure. It never failed to make my heart flutter, though.

Tonight, there was nothing, just Gran's dreams and my own loneliness.

Despite the late hour—well after midnight, as I'd worked a closing shift—I wasn't yet tired. In fact, I felt full of restless energy. I debated a hot bath to sweat out some tension, but decided against it; I had planned to do some yard work the next day, and didn't want to bathe twice in less than 24 hours.

I could try to watch a movie or some television…but I knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate.

The house was about as clean as it could get; my tried-and-true method of avoidance was still going strong: cleaning, cleaning, and more cleaning.

I knew, in my heart, that my nervous energy would never be burned off until I dealt with the situation between Eric and I. I suppose in a movie I would have broken away from my evil captor, never to see him again; I'd go on and live a happy life, marry my one true love, never have a second thought about leaving my trials and tribulations behind me. I'd move on to bigger and better things. I'd be happy.

But that wasn't for me. I knew it. Eric had known it, too. He'd told me himself that night in the car. I could do better than that.

I wasn't a heroine, and he wasn't a villain; not in the truest sense of the words, anyway. Our roles weren't standard, and neither were we as beings. Neither of us were even human. How could I possibly move on and settle down with a human man? I had always known it would be nearly impossible for me, but now I was starting to believe that it would be settling, just as Eric had said. Conceding to a life of inescapable thoughts, just for the chance at companionship…no. That wasn't me. I was no fairytale heroine.

I sat down slowly on my bed, clutching the cordless phone from the kitchen in one hand and Eric's business card in the other. It had his name— _Mr. Eric Northman—_ printed neatly above a phone number. The red letters shone against the matte black card, looking a bit like blood. Knowing what he was, the color choice was a little morbid, yet very fitting.

I inhaled deeply, my heart thumping hard against my ribs. He gave me his number; he wanted me to call him. He had more or less agreed to give me the space that I needed.

" _For when you're ready. Or not."_

Was I ready? Would I ever really be? If I could go the rest of my life and forget about Eric and the entire experience, would I?

I bit my lip, knowing my answer immediately: No. I wouldn't.

I exhaled the breath I'd been holding and dialed the number on the card, my fingers moving quickly so I wouldn't lose my nerve.

The phone only rang twice before he answered, and suddenly I had no idea what to say.

" _Sookie?"_ He prompted.

I cleared my throat. "How did you know it was me?"

His laugh echoed down the line, and I was equal parts annoyed and happy to hear it. _"You do remember I stalked you, yes?"_

"You have a point," I conceded quietly. "How are you?" I winced; the question sounded lame even to my own ears.

" _Did you really call to ask me that, Sookie?"_

A sigh escaped me before I could stop it. "No. No, I didn't. I called because…" I paused, floundering. "Do you have time to talk?"

" _I do,"_ he answered.

"Not on the phone, but," I cleared my throat, "in person?"

Eric paused, and even through the phone I could feel the heavy tension from him. _"Are you sure you're ready to have an in-person talk?"_

"Yes," I answered, forcing confidence into my tone. "I'm ready."

The silence, while still loaded, was no longer tense; I could almost feel his anticipation, his hope. _"I can come to you, if you don't mind the intrusion. I can be there faster than you can be here."_

"Okay," I croaked out. "I'll be here."

" _I will see you soon, then, Sookie,"_ he replied. There was a moment of silence before I heard him hang up.

Taking my time, I changed into fresh clothes and lightly spritzed some body spray to cover up the scent of grease and cheap beer. I doubted it would erase the stench entirely, but Eric would just have to deal with it if it bothered him. I let my hair down from its ponytail and brushed the snarls out, massaging my scalp lightly to relieve that ache. I grabbed a glass of sweet tea and moved to the front porch to wait for Eric to arrive.

With my mental shields down, I felt his void coming my way, as warm and firm as I remembered it. My heart rate picked up, though I tried to project a sense of calm. I knew he would feel my response to him, but it made me feel more secure to at least try, nonetheless.

When he finally touched down on the grass a few feet from the steps, I stood from my seat on the porch swing to greet him, but nothing would come out. My throat felt tight, and I could feel my hands shaking slightly. The ice clinked in my glass from the involuntary movements, but Eric didn't comment on it.

"Sookie," He said, by way of greeting.

I cleared my throat before answering. "Eric."

Our eyes stayed locked before he responded. "The ball is in your court, Sookie. You called me."

Though he said it gently, I still winced. "Sorry," I mumbled. "I…don't really know what I want to say. I've just felt off, ever since last time." He nodded, still silent. I worried my lip with my teeth, gathering my thoughts. "When you said that I was settling, you were right. Kind of. I was settling, but it was because I didn't know anything else was out there. I thought…I thought that I was alone. Like it was just me, and no other weird things, nothing that could be… _other_ , existed. I just didn't know I had options."

"Options for what?" Eric responded after a few moments.

I sighed, setting my glass down and leaning against a support beam. "Everything? I don't know. I just didn't know that there was anything I could even remotely relate to, but…I talked with Gran, and she told me things that might have changed…everything, I guess. I'm not making a whole lot of sense, am I?"

"Tell me everything she told you, then," He murmured encouragingly, coming closer to the porch.

I did, starting from the beginning: Gran meeting Fintan, her subsequent pregnancies, the relief she felt knowing her children were all relatively normal—until I came along, anyway.

"She figured out early on that my I was _other_ , and I would always be a little different. Maybe my life would have been different if I'd known I wasn't fully human. If I knew that I wasn't a freak of nature…I could have been a different person."

Eric tilted his head slightly. "Perhaps. But there's nothing wrong with you as you are."

I swallowed. "Gran said Fairies attract people to them, that it's just part of their nature. Do you think that my Fairy half is the reason you're attracted to me?"

"No," He answered without hesitation. "It's true that the Fae are enticing, even more so to Vampires, and you do have especially sweet blood. However, my _attraction_ to you is not subliminal or the pull of some deep-seated instinct. It simply is."

"Right. Okay. So, we've both acknowledged a base attraction. And we're basically on even ground now, since I've been home." I trailed off, suddenly unsure of myself. I sighed, rubbing my face. "Sorry, I've never done this before."

"Neither have I," He replied, quirking an eyebrow.

"How comforting," I mumbled, knowing he would hear. "Well, basically, what we both know I'm trying to say is that, maybe we could try to get to know each other as equals now."

"As in, dating?" To his credit, Eric didn't even sound condescending.

"Umm, I guess? But taking it slow. And being exclusive."

He was quiet for a few moments, though our eyes stayed locked. "I accept your terms."

My eyebrows rose. "Do you have any terms?"

"No, Sookie," Eric said. "I'll let you set the pace for us."

 _Us._ I smiled, liking the sound of that. "Thank you."

Instead of responding, he started up the steps. I simply watched, my heart beating faster. One large hand, startlingly cool, cupped my cheek as Eric lowered his face and kissed the crown of my head. I closed my eyes and leaned into his touch, reveling in the silence it brought.

"No, thank _you_ ," He sighed into my hair before stepping back several paces. "But for now, I think it's your bedtime."

I nodded. "I think you're right."

He smiled slightly. "I await your next call, Sookie."

"It won't be too long, I think." I answered, smiling back. "Good night, Eric."

"Good night, _raring._ " He turned and walked down the stairs before disappearing in the blink of an eye. I sighed, suddenly tired, but feeling lighter than I had in a long time.


End file.
